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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26643364">paper rings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thathockey/pseuds/thathockey'>thathockey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Developing Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Online Romance, Texting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:08:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>69,836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26643364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thathockey/pseuds/thathockey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's not know for making good decisions, but drunk-downloading a sugar daddy app is a whole new level of idiocy, even for him. </p><p>It all seems like Patrick's biggest mistake and then, user J.T.19 messages him.</p><p> <i>(Or how college student Patrick Kane meets the love of his life Jonathan Toews on a sugar daddy app, even though neither of them are really into that.</i></p><p>  <i>...Or are they?)</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>1988: Locked In</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1. i had a long night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I recently found out that the full saying for <i>"It takes a village..."</i> actually goes <i>"It takes a village to raise a child"</i> and I couldn't agree more. </p><p>This story is my baby, and there are so many people that have helped me raise it along the way. Words will never be able to express how thankful I am to y'all, but I'm going to try anyway.</p><blockquote>
  <p>First off, thank you Dana and Ann, my Quaranthon betas, for all the work and care you've put into this fic. I feel honored that you read the summary to this story and were intrigued enough to want to read it and help me edit it. Thank you for your corrections and your patience. I owe you my life.</p>
  <p>Secondly, Anisha, I don't know what I would have done without you. There aren't enough words in any language to tell you how much you mean to me. I am so lucky to have you in my life, and I'll forever be grateful that 1988 (and this fic) brought us together. Your encouragement literally made me finish this fic (and choose a last minute summary), and your friendship is a true blessing. I love you with all of my heart. </p>
  <p>Thank you to Emily and Soph, as well. You girls were the best cheerleaders a girl could ask for. Your comments and excitement over reading every new part I wrote kept me going even when I felt stuck or unsure. </p>
  <p>My Twitter pals also deserve a mention here, and y'all know who you are. Having to listen to me complain and talk about this story for five months must not have been easy, but you always had words of love for me and I truly hope you all love this story. </p>
  <p>Last but not least, thank you to the mods of the 1988 Quaranthon for creating such an awesome event. It's brought me so much joy even during very difficult times for all of us. </p>
</blockquote>Now, without further ado, here's <i>paper rings</i>.
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick’s broke, well and truly broke. Broke in a way he’s never been before. Sure, he’s no stranger to money being tight, especially as a college student, but it has never been this bad. </p><p>Every little privilege he used to enjoy has suddenly disappeared, and Patrick curses himself for not having appreciated what he had enough. </p><p>Pizza night? Not enough funds! Groceries? Better get only the essentials! Rent? He’s still covering that but only by the skin of his teeth! In a couple of months, if things don't get better soon, even that will be gone. </p><p>Three years ago, when he decided he wanted to move to Chicago for college, he knew it would make things more complicated than if he stayed at home attending community college at most. He had been offered a partial scholarship to U of C and he’d been saving up money through a few summer jobs and part-time jobs through his high school career. But the cost of living in a big city is substantial and Patrick knew he would need to be careful and overly-conscious of his spendings if he made the choice to move away. </p><p>He knew he needed to do it, though. Not only did Buffalo not have the kind of educational institution Patrick’s parents dreamt of him attending, but Patrick had always felt the need to get as far from his hometown as possible. </p><p>Patrick’s childhood is not something he remembers with dread. He loves his parents, his sisters, the handful of friends he’s kept from middle school and high school; but his childhood was also never enough to want to keep him around a small town where people still turn their heads when he walks by them. </p><p>It wasn't exactly a scandal when Patrick came out as gay. There weren’t attacks on him and no one ever dared tell him anything bad to his face. If one wasn't to look very closely at the situation, they could go on believing that everything was as it had always been. </p><p>However, if things were carefully analyzed, it was easy to spot the suspicious silence that set around the event. Silence when Patrick walked into certain shops, silence when his parents attended church every Sunday, silence from people he’d known his whole entire life and who suddenly felt like strangers. </p><p>And to be honest, silence’s never suited Patrick that well. </p><p>Chicago’s treated Pat better than he could have ever dreamt since he moved here. But Chicago is a city like any other, and cities all over the world are full of assholes. Assholes like the manager at the restaurant Pat had been working at for three years, who fired him two weeks ago without any kind of rhyme or reason. </p><p>The asshole who has ensured that Patrick’s now more broke than ever. </p><p>The numbers on his bank account don’t change no matter how hard or how long Patrick stares at them. His eyes are dry from staring at his lit up cell phone screen and his lip is bitten raw from the worrying he’s been doing. The numbers are dangerously low and Pat is tired of making hundreds and hundreds of calculations in his head with them. He’s also so, so tired of being unemployed. </p><p>He’s lost count of the number of resumés he’s sent out into the void. Most of them without answer, some of them with a polite reply back full of meaningless niceties and platitudes. A million tries, zero jobs. </p><p>The numbers keep staring back at him. Mocking him, slowly killing him. </p><p>“If you manage to add some zeroes to that, please let me know your secret.”</p><p>Dylan’s voice pulls Pat out of his head suddenly. Dylan’s standing by the fridge, drinking from a Gatorade bottle and looking at Pat, who’s been sat at the kitchen table for the past half hour. </p><p>“The only zeroes I know how to add to this thing are the ones that seem to appear magically to the left of it every day,” Pat says. </p><p>“That’s my kind of magic too!” Dylan says, walking towards the table and slapping his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. </p><p>Patrick sighs as Dylan takes a seat next to him, still holding the Gatorade bottle in his right hand as he starts tapping the fingers of his left hand against the wood of the kitchen table. Dylan’s hyper energy is something Pat has grown used to through months of exposure and living together. It took a little while for things to settle into a rhythm but Patrick knows he’s lucky as hell to be living with two of his best friends. </p><p>In the exact moment that Patrick thinks that, Alex walks into the kitchen. He’s panting loudly and sweating profoundly so even if Patrick didn’t know his routine perfectly by now, it would be easy to tell he’s just gotten back home from a run. As Dylan did, Alex walks towards the fridge and takes a Gatorade bottle that he half-downs in a single gulp, but only after clinking it together with Dylan’s own plastic bottle. </p><p>Alex doesn't sit at the table and instead stays put at the counter, joining the conversation.</p><p>“So what’s this meeting all about?” Alex asks, looking between Pat and Dylan. </p><p>“Poverty,” Dylan answers. “Our own poverty, to be more specific.”</p><p>Patrick laughs ruefully as he starts turning his phone in his hand just to have something to do. </p><p>“Shit, man,” Alex says, grimacing at Pat. “You still haven’t found a job?” </p><p>Patrick shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders at the same time. “At this point I’m willing to do almost anything. It’s just not looking good.”</p><p>“I tried putting in a good word for you at the coffee shop but I don’t think they’ll be hiring anyone new anytime soon,” Alex explains, looking guilty about it even though Patrick knows he must have done everything in his power. </p><p>“It’s okay, man,” Patrick says. “Thanks anyway.”</p><p>“You know if you need us to cover the rent for a few months we’ll do it, Kaner,” Dylan reassures. “You just have to say the word.”</p><p>“Thanks, guys. That’s really cool but I know what your situation is, as well. That’s just not sustainable,” Patrick says. </p><p>It could work for a month, sure, maybe two if Dylan and Alex really crunched the numbers. But then Patrick would be in the same exact spot as right now, only he’d be feeling worse about it because then Alex and Dylan would be worse off too.</p><p>By the look on Dylan’s and Alex’s faces they know this just as well as Pat does, but Patrick also knows they completely mean it when they say they’ll help Patrick out if he needs it. Patrick is well and truly broke and maybe, he thinks, that’s because all his luck ran out the minute he was assigned best friends by fate, the universe, God, or whoever is in charge of things like that in the world.</p><p>“What about your parents?” Alex asks. “I know it’s not ideal but…”</p><p>“Yeah, no,” Patrick says. “With Erica starting college next year the last thing they need is more expenses.”</p><p>A loaded silence follows Patrick’s sentence and he sighs loudly after a few seconds of it. </p><p>“Yeah, I’m truly fucked, huh?”</p><p>Dylan stands up suddenly from the kitchen chair and claps his hands loudly, facing Patrick fully. </p><p>“Let’s just forget about it for today, okay?” Dylan proposes. “It’s Friday and a few hours ignoring the problem won’t make it any worse so let’s do something else. I don’t know, like, let’s get drunk!”</p><p>“I don’t really feel like going out, Stromer,” Pat explains but Dylan just shakes his head. </p><p>“Who said anything about going out?”</p><p>He sends a look Alex’s way and Alex’s face lights up in understanding. He makes a triumphant noise as he moves back towards the fridge and opens it, pulling a bottle of rum and a bottle of Coke out of it. </p><p>“We got supplies!” Alex announces, even though Patrick can see that perfectly well by himself. </p><p>Patrick looks between Dylan and Alex a few times and he ends up sighing and throwing his hands up in seeming defeat. </p><p>“What the fuck? It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose,” Patrick says. “Let’s get fucking drunk.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>_____________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m really fucking drunk, dude,” Patrick says, the living room spinning around him. </p><p>“So am I!” Dylan shouts gleefully and, right after, starts giggling. </p><p>Dylan and Alex are sprawled out on the living room couch, Dylan taking up most of the space with his long legs stretched out. If Patrick wants to be able to see them properly he needs to turn his head, but doing so makes him feel nauseous. He’s laying down on the cool, hardwood floor, his arms stretched out to his sides and his legs pressed closed together. He feels ready to be crucified in this position and he has the slight suspicion that that’s how the hangover will feel tomorrow morning too. </p><p>Patrick catches some movement from the corner of his right eye and he turns just enough to see Alex stretching forward to grab the rum bottle from the coffee table. He then goes to pour some out into a glass but no matter how hard he shakes it not even a drop of liquid comes out of it. </p><p>“We’re out of alcohol,” Alex announces, sounding desolate and angry all at once. </p><p>Dylan boos loudly, even though he’s still holding onto his glass that’s still half-full. Patrick eyes his own glass, a quarter of his drink still available, but decides against sitting up and downing the last of it. Age must have made him more mature or some shit, because he remembers a time when he wouldn’t have allowed the tiniest bit of alcohol to go to waste. </p><p><em> Soon enough </em> , Patrick thinks, <em> I won’t have money for alcohol, so maybe I should take advantage of it now that I’ve got a chance.  </em></p><p>His mood turns sour once again, the temporary serotonin boost from the alcohol and the company having lasted a much shorter time than he would have liked. He thinks there is no way Dylan and Alex will be able to tell because they don’t have the best view of him from their position, but he must make some kind of sound -a sigh, a whimper, a sob; who the fuck knows- that alerts them. </p><p>“You okay, Kaner?” Alex asks, moving until he can look Patrick in the eye. </p><p>“Is it still the job thing?” Dylan questions too. </p><p>Pat makes an affirmative noise and closes his eyes, still a little lost in his thoughts. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to clear his mind or even think of anything else for longer than a few minutes. It’s tiring and frustrating, now more so than ever because not even getting drunk can offer him any kind of release or peace of mind.</p><p>“No!” Dylan says, elongating the vowel for over three seconds. “This was supposed to make you forget!”</p><p>Patrick sits up on the floor, his vision going blurry for a second before focusing again. Alex has leaned forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his face set in a deep frown. He looks much more sober than Dylan and, although Patrick can’t see himself in any mirror or reflective surface, he knows he himself doesn't look that well either.</p><p>“I know,” Pat says. “I just can’t stop thinking about how fucking poor I am. And how much fucking poorer I am going to be. <em> So </em> fucking poor.”</p><p>“Dude, we really are broke,” Dylan agrees, cheering the air with his glass before gulping some of the drink down. Some of the liquid doesn’t make it into his mouth and it wets the collar of his t-shirt but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. </p><p>“It’s so unfair,” Patrick whines, knowing he sounds young and immature but not caring at all. “I would make one great rich dude. I’d make a great Jeff Bezos, a better one than the real one.”</p><p>“Who’s that?” Dylan asks, his words slurred from the alcohol and the chewing he’s now doing on his hoodie’s drawstring. His head is tilted to the side in confusion and Pat has the sudden urge to pet him on the head like a puppy.</p><p>“The dude from Amazon,” Alex answers as he rolls his eyes. He should be used to Dylan’s and Patrick’s drunk antics by now -and their sober ones, to be quite honest- but Patrick figures it’s fair that he sometimes can’t help but get frustrated at their sheer uselessness. “Oh! The really rich dude!” Dylan exclaims, clearly excited about being able to remember.</p><p>“He’s too rich,” Alex states. “Too fucking rich. He could share some of that shit.”</p><p>“With me,” Patrick proclaims and Alex and Dylan throw two nearly identical glares his way. </p><p>“With us,” they say in unison, using some of that weird psychic connection bullshit Pat is always on their case about.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Patrick agrees placatingly. “With us. With all of us.”</p><p>“The things I would do with that kind of money,” Dylan says wistfully, his gaze getting lost on some faraway point, as if he’s imagining his dream, wealthy life. Patrick would try to do it as well, but he doesn't want to feel the crushing disappointment of getting out of his head and his life still being the same. </p><p>“I wouldn't even need all of it,” Patrick says instead of fantasizing about miraculously becoming a millionaire. “Just some, you know? Like, enough to not have to think about being broke all the time.”</p><p>“I would use it to quit at the coffee shop,” Alex states. “I know I was trying to hook you up there, Kaner, but maybe you dodged a bullet.”</p><p>“Man, I wouldn’t even care,” Pat corrects as he shakes his head. “It’s not like the restaurant was amazing either. I am just so desperate.”</p><p>Dylan hums at his words but he’s not really looking at Patrick, he seems to still be lost in his own mind. </p><p>Alex is nodding at Patrick and his face looks sympathetic, concerned, and pained all at once. It’s nice to know that even though he feels like a broken record, his friends will still put up with his whining for a little longer. It makes him feel just a tiny bit better to know that they care. </p><p>“I would do anything. Literally anything,” Patrick reiterates. </p><p>Dylan coughs a little, seemingly pulled out of his musings abruptly. “Dude, don’t say that. That’s what people who end up, like, selling drugs say!”</p><p>“Whatever. At this point I’d even do that,” Patrick says, shrugging.</p><p>Dylan and Alex both stare back at him intently, looking scandalized and skeptical respectively. Patrick rolls his eyes and throws his arms up defensively. </p><p>“Okay, maybe not sell drugs,” he concedes. “But anything else, anything. I’d sell one of you fuckers at this point. I’d even sell myself!”</p><p>Alex scoffs. “I think that’d technically be considered slavery. Prostitution, at best.”</p><p>“I’d be a damn good prostitute,” Patrick says, outraged at his friend thinking otherwise. “I have the looks for it.”</p><p>“Dude,” Alex says, but Patrick doesn’t let him continue saying whatever he was going to say next. </p><p>“Dyls, tell him,” Patrick demands, pointing at Dylan and then at Alex insistingly. “Wouldn’t I make a great prostitute?”</p><p>“Totally!” Dylan says enthusiastically. “You’re handsome and fit. Any dude would be lucky to pay you to have sex with him.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Patrick says proudly, throwing a triumphant glance Alex’s way. Alex just rolls his eyes and leans back on the couch like dealing with Patrick and Dylan exhausts him.</p><p>“But I don’t know, man. I don’t think being a prostitute is all that great,” Dylan starts saying as he incorporates on the couch. He bends down to leave his now empty glass on the floor and then moves back, this time staying seated and not laying down. “I mean, they don't really make that much money, do they? And they probably have to have sex with disgusting creeps all the time.”</p><p>Dylan’s face contorts into a grimace and he shudders. Only the thought of it makes Patrick’s stomach turn so he has to agree with Dylan’s point reluctantly. </p><p>“Yeah, no. But I’d be like a high-end one. What do you call them, escorts?” Patrick asks. </p><p>“Are those the ones that rich, old dudes pay to go with them to parties and stuff?” Dylan asks. “To pretend that they can actually hook up with girls 25 years younger than them and a thousand times hotter?”</p><p>Patrick nods. “Yeah, those. I’d be one of those,” he says with conviction. </p><p>“I see what’s going on here,” Alex says, leaning forward again and pointing at Patrick. He smirks mischievously at him. “You just want to have a sugar daddy.”</p><p>Patrick’s eyebrows raise in surprise and Alex laughs at the expression on his face.</p><p>“Wait,” Dylan says, frowning. “What’s the difference between having a sugar daddy and being an escort?”</p><p>Alex shrugs. “Having a sugar daddy doesn’t have to mean you sleep with him, I guess. Like, he’d give you gifts for your company or pay you to go on dates or stuff like that.”</p><p>“And you wouldn’t have to sleep with him?” Dylan asks sounding intrigued, like hearing all about the intricacies of sex work is the most interesting thing to ever happen to him. </p><p>“I’m assuming most people sleep with their sugar daddies,” Alex answers. “It’s a sexual fantasy thing, right? Like a kink.”</p><p>“Oh,” Dylan murmurs as he nods along to Alex’s explanations, seemingly enraptured.</p><p>“You know a lot about this shit, Brinsky,” Pat points out as he finally finishes his drink in one gulp. He tries to cross his arms in front of his chest to look menacing but it takes him a couple of tries and he’s pretty sure that ruins the effect. “Anything you want to tell us?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a sugar daddy that pays me thousands of dollars to suck his dick and that’s why I live with you both in this shitty apartment,” Alex says sarcastically, bringing his hands together to clap them once in fake enthusiasm. </p><p>Dylan tilts his head to the side confusedly and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but ultimately decides against it. Alex catches him doing it and he chuckles, patting one of Dylan’s knees twice. Patrick can’t help but chuckle at the sight too as he shakes his head. He quickly has to stop the movement when the room looks like it’s spinning way too fast around him. </p><p>“All jokes aside,” Dylan says, wrapping his arms around his knees and looking at Patrick very seriously. “You’d make a great prostitute, or escort, or whatever sugar daddy thing. I’m here for you, man. If you want to do it, I’m here for you.”</p><p>“That’s super sweet, Stromer,” Patrick says, and he must be drunker than he originally thought because he wouldn't normally tear up from something so ridiculous. “You’re a great friend, dude.”</p><p>“And I’d kill any gross dudes that didn't treat you right, man,” Dylan states. </p><p>Dylan gets off the couch and kneels on the floor, crawling towards Patrick and sitting next to him.  Once he reaches him, he rests his head on Patrick’s shoulder even if this means he has to scoot down a ton. Patrick pets his head a couple of times and Dylan sighs happily. </p><p>“You’d be my manager, “ Patrick says, knowing that’s not the word he’s looking for, but his mind is too fuzzy to really make an effort to search for the correct one. “You’d only get me great clients. Very rich. Maybe even hot ones.”</p><p>“I’d get you the best sugar daddy,” Dylan agrees and Patrick feels him nodding against his shoulder. “Someone who’d buy you like a house, a dog, diamonds. Who’d pay for your college. And you wouldn't have to have sex with him.”</p><p>“I mean, I would if he was hot,” Patrick says. </p><p>He likes sex. He likes sex a lot. It’s not like sleeping with a hot, rich dude would be a problem for him. </p><p>“How hot?” Dylan asks.</p><p>“Really hot,” Patrick answers after thinking about it for a few seconds. </p><p>Pat likes sex a lot but he does have his standards. </p><p>Dylan suddenly makes a distressed noise and raises his head from Pat’s shoulder, startling Patrick. Patrick turns to look at him and Dylan looks really upset, his bottom lip set in a pout. </p><p>“I don’t know where to find you a guy like that, Kaner. I’m sorry,” Dylan apologizes, looking like he feels the hurt from disappointing Patrick deep in his bones. </p><p>“You guys are idiots.” </p><p>Alex’s voice surprises both Dylan and Patrick, who turn their heads simultaneously to look at him. Alex makes the same movement Dylan had made only a few minutes before and gets off the couch to crawl towards them decidedly, settling on Patrick’s other side. </p><p>“There are tons of websites to find sugar daddies and stuff,” Alex comments.</p><p>“Like on the Internet?” Dylan asks. </p><p>“Of course on the Internet,” Alex says matter-of-factly. </p><p>Patrick looks between Dylan and Alex and then back to Dylan again. He raises his hand to point over his shoulder with his thumb back at Alex. </p><p>“You’ve got some strong competition for the manager role,” Patrick says. </p><p>Dylan gasps dramatically at the comment and Patrick bites his lip to prevent a laugh from leaving his mouth. He doesn't do a really good job because a chuckle still escapes his lips. Alex extends his arm, bypassing Patrick’s body, to pat Dylan’s knee placatingly. </p><p>“We’ll share the role,” Alex proposes, and he sounds magnanimous doing so. </p><p>Dylan appears to think about it and ends up nodding and shaking Alex’s hand like they’re truly settling a business deal. When he separates his hand from Alex’s, he extends his other arm with his hand palm-up and makes a grabby hand motion. </p><p>“Okay, so give me your phone,” Dylan demands and his demeanor has gone from pouty to determined in the blink of an eye. </p><p>“What? Why?” Alex questions. </p><p>Dylan rolls his eyes and sounds impatient when he says, “Mine is dead and we’re going to find Kaner his sugar daddy.”</p><p>Patrick blinks, baffled. “Now?”</p><p>“Of course now!” Dylan says, his arm still extended. “The sooner, the better.”</p><p>Alex starts pulling Patrick’s phone out of his sweatpants’ right front-pocket. Patrick bats his hand away but Alex is a pretty strong dude and he really is a lot more sober than Patrick. He manages to evade Patrick’s hits and he manages to extract Pat’s phone from his pocket. </p><p> “There are like a million of websites. We don't know which ones are legit,” Alex points out.</p><p>“Well,” Dylan says, cracking his fingers before taking Patrick’s phone from Alex. “We’ve got time. And I’ve got another bottle of alcohol in my room that I’m willing to share with you fuckers.”</p><p>Alex hollers and starts laughing at that, quickly getting to his feet and running in the direction of Dylan’s bedroom. Patrick turns to look at Dylan who is unlocking Pat’s phone -why he knows the code is a mystery to Patrick- and opening up the Internet app. </p><p>“Let’s get you a sugar daddy, dude!” Dylan says enthusiastically and Patrick laughs, throwing his head back and feeling light for the first time in weeks.</p><p> </p><p>_____________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Light is not the word Patrick would use to describe how he feels when he wakes up the next morning. Nauseated, maybe. Terrible, most likely. Dead, definitely. </p><p>Soft morning sunshine makes its way towards Patrick’s bed from the window and Patrick curses himself for not closing his curtains last night. His head pounds, keeping rhythm with his heart, and Patrick tries to lessen some of the hurt by hiding it under his pillow. It doesn't work. The heat quickly becomes too suffocating and Patrick pushes the pillow away with a groan. </p><p>His eyes stay closed for a long time but Patrick doesn’t manage to fall back asleep. The one reprise he gets is the fact that the world is silent all around him. He can’t hear any sounds coming from the rest of the apartment so Dylan and Alex must still be asleep. What’s more surprising is the fact that he can’t hear any noises from the street outside and that must mean it’s earlier than Patrick would have liked it to be. </p><p>Moving slowly, he manages to check the time on his phone -which he did remember to plug in before falling asleep- and confirms his suspicions. 9:13AM. On a Saturday. Patrick groans and lets his upper body fall back onto the mattress. </p><p>He stays like that for a few more minutes, his eyes open and fixed on the ceiling. Patrick finally makes the decision to move when the need to go to the bathroom becomes unbearable. </p><p>Leaving the safety of his bed is more difficult than ever. The air is cold when his bare legs move from beneath the comforter and the floor is even colder when his feet touch it. Patrick always sleeps in his boxers but winters always make him reconsider that decision at least once or twice a week. </p><p>He ends up making it to the bathroom even though it takes him longer than usual. After he relieves himself, Patrick rummages around the drawers to find the bottle of painkillers he knows is there. He bends over the bathroom sink to drink water from it, both to help him swallow the painkiller and to stop his mouth from feeling so dry. He drinks and he drinks and he drinks and the cool water makes him feel a little bit more human. </p><p>Or at least a little more prepared to walk to the kitchen and grab something to eat. </p><p>There isn’t much in the fridge and Patrick isn’t very surprised. Luckily he finds a couple of bananas and he devours one of them while opening various cardboards looking for a box of cookies that he bought but never ate a couple of weeks ago. He cheers softly when he finally finds it and he goes to sit at the table with his box held triumphantly in his hands. </p><p>The first bite of the first cookie tastes like absolute heaven. Patrick’s taste buds sing in pleasure and the experience is so magnificent Patrick actually wonders if he’s still a little inebriated. He bites and chews and swallows, bites and chews and swallows; and before he’s even aware of it, he has eaten half of the cookies in the box already. He slows down as soon as he notices, going as far as closing the box but deciding against it mere seconds later and sneaking two more cookies out of it. </p><p>He eats those last two cookies more slowly, trying to savor them properly and willing the painkiller to work. Patrick doesn't know if it’s placebo effect, the effect of eating something, or if it’s really the medication doing its job but he starts feeling better little by little. </p><p>As soon as he’s done eating, Patrick stands up from the chair and walks towards the fridge to grab the milk carton. He grabs one of the only two mugs he owns and pours milk into it, returning the carton to the fridge when he’s done. He takes a sip of the cold milk and pads towards his room. As he walks he sniffs the armpits of the shirt he threw on before walking out of his room and realizes he’s desperately in need of a shower. </p><p>When he makes it to his room again he sits on the right side of his bed, sipping from the mug once more before depositing it on the bedside table and grabbing his phone. Last time Patrick got as drunk as he had gotten the night before, he had woken up to a cracked screen so he’s relieved to see that nothing like that has happened this time around. Not even a tiny scratch can be seen on his phone. Or at least not a new one. </p><p>Patrick clicks the home button of his iPhone with his thumb to unlock it but the phone won’t recognize his fingertip on the first try. It doesn't recognize it on the second try either and it’s then that Patrick looks at the locked screen more closely. </p><p>Patrick’s phone is full of notifications. Like, more full than Patrick has ever seen it in his life. </p><p>A couple of the notifications are messages: two from his mom, one from a college project group chat he’s a part of, and one from his sister Erica. </p><p>The rest of them are from an app called <em> Dreamy.  </em></p><p>There are dozens of notifications. Dozens of what appear to be messages and friend requests. Patrick is so overwhelmed for a second that he has to put his phone down on the bed and then pick it back up again to confirm that what he’s seeing is real. </p><p>The thing is, Patrick isn’t really huge into social media. He has no Instagram -no matter how much Dylan insists he needs to get one-, no Snapchat -no matter how much his sisters insist he needs to get one-, he has a Facebook that he hasn’t used in years, and a Twitter account that he logs into once or twice every leap year. </p><p>Normally, when Patrick picks up his phone, even when he’s been away from it for hours and hours, he tends to find a few messages at most. Usually they’re from his mom, a mixture of questions about his life and his days, and random memes she loves and definitely always gets from Facebook. A lot of them come from Dylan and Alex too, sent through the group chat they share, normal roommate stuff (“<em> do we have toilet paper? </em> ”) and best friend stuff (“ <em> i luv u guys so mch and ithin am little drnk. </em>”).</p><p>Sometimes his sisters text him too. Sometimes it’s classmates, friends he shared classes with previous years. Co-workers, even, when he still had a job. </p><p>But Patrick can confidently say that never in his life has he seen his phone have so many notifications at once, and never in his life would he have expected it to. </p><p>And<em> Dreamy </em> ? What kind of app is that? Patrick may not really be on social media much but he still lives in the 21st century, attends college, and has a pretty decent social life. He knows his trends, his memes, his slang, and his apps. And <em> Dreamy </em> is not something he has ever heard about before. </p><p>Patrick unlocks his phone tremulously and quickly scans his homepage for the new icon that must be there. It’d be pretty hard to miss even if he wasn’t looking for it, with its bright pink heart logo. Looking closer at it, Patrick can see that inside the heart there is a sparkly diamond. The logo only serves to make him more confused and he clicks on it not really knowing what to expect. </p><p>The first thought Patrick has when entering the app’s homepage is that whoever created it really was absurdly into pink. The background is bubblegum pink, the writing is baby pink, the links are fuchsia. So much pink. The second thought Patrick has is, <em> Is this a dating app? </em> . The third thought he has is, <em> Is this a weird dating app?. </em></p><p>The name of the app is written in big, bold letters -silver, not pink, which is a pleasant surprise- at the top of the page, and under it Patrick scrolls through what appears to be an endless amount of men’s pictures. </p><p>The set up of the app seems actually really simple: Patrick is presented with one picture from each man’s profile and a short bio under it, stating name, age, and proximity to the man. Patrick clicks on a random guy’s profile just to see what more there is to it and there he is shown a wider array of pictures and more information on the guy. It’s very typical stuff: hobbies, job, dislikes,… </p><p>The app looks pretty much like any other dating app in the market, not that Patrick really uses them much. Which is one of the two main reasons for his confusion. The second reason is the messages. Because the messages make Patrick suspect this is actually nothing like every other dating app. </p><p>Patrick doesn't read the 37 (thirty-seven!) messages that the little blue notification on the top right corner tells him he has. He goes through a few of them only, but they’re more than enough for Patrick to get a clearer idea of the situation. </p><p>
  <em> “I’d pay that little, pretty face millions.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’d be honored to be your daddy, baby.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How much for a date? Just a date, I swear.” </em>
</p><p>Those are the ones that have something for him to actually read, because a lot of other messages are more explicit, more forward, and with far more links to private albums full of guys' dicks in them than Patrick wanted to see after waking up hungover as shit. </p><p>Patrick has pretty much zero doubts by now about the type of app <em> Dreamy </em> is, but the actual confirmation comes from exploring the left side of the homepage, where a drop-down menu appears if he clicks on it. A small display picture of Patrick appears as an icon on the menu and under it there are several links (profile, settings, help). Patrick pays no attention to any of those because all he can focus on is the little writing under his profile picture.</p><p><em> Sugar baby </em>, it says. </p><p>It’s not so much that everything comes rushing back to him but more like his head clears enough of the fog that has been clouding his morning for him to remember the night before more clearly. </p><p>Getting drunk, wallowing in self-pity, the stupid prostitute conversation with Dylan and Alex. </p><p>The three of them deciding it was a good idea to sign Patrick up for a Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby app. </p><p>Patrick throws his phone over his shoulder and he groans as he hears it land against the bed. He throws himself down onto the bed as well and covers his eyes with one of his forearms. This isn't the first time -not by a wide stretch- that Pat has done something stupid when he was drunk, but he kind of trusted Alex to keep him and Dylan in check last night. </p><p>He should have known better, though. Alex is as stupid as Dylan and him, he has just gotten a little better at pretending he isn’t. He might even, perhaps, be the stupidest out of the three of them. After all, he counts Dylan as his best friend. </p><p>Patrick groans again and kicks his legs against his mattress vigorously for a few seconds. It may be childish and immature and futile, but it’s the only way Patrick can think of to release the frustration he’s feeling. </p><p>It shouldn't be that big of a deal. It could be as simple as deleting the app and never thinking about it ever again. It’s just a pride thing, is the thing. </p><p>Patrick knows he’s desperate. Patrick <em> feels </em> desperate all the time. Not to mention how he’s broke, anxious and worried, on top of being desperate. He just hadn’t realized the depth of his desperation before and this app shows him how low he has become willing to stoop. </p><p>Before this morning, Patrick at least had his pride and now he's not even sure he can say that. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>_____________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“At least we chose a picture where you look really hot,” Dylan says, and immediately after, Alex smacks him on the back of his neck. </p><p>Patrick silently thanks Alex with his gaze even if he had the exact same thought that Dylan just voiced a few minutes ago. The picture shows him shirtless on the beach on a trip Patrick, Dylan and Alex took last year with some other friends for spring break. He’s wearing red trunks, a little shorter that he would normally dare to wear, and his thighs and chest look pretty good with the slight tan he had developed during the week they spent there. </p><p>“It would have been nice if we had cut my face off,” Patrick points out, running a hand through his hair. “This app is full of creeps and I feel so uncomfortable knowing they know what I look like.”</p><p>“Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” Alex agrees, grabbing Pat’s phone from Dylan’s hands, earning a small protest from Dylan. </p><p>“None of this was smart!” Patrick yells, letting his head fall down to the kitchen table, his forehead smacking painfully against it. “I can’t believe you guys let me do this.”</p><p>Patrick turns his head to the side so he can see Dylan still trying to take Patrick’s phone back from Alex but giving up after a few tries when he doesn’t succeed. </p><p>Dylan grabs his mug with both of his hands and takes a sip of his chocolate milk. He wipes his mouth with the back of one hand and says, “We were trying to be supportive, Kaner.”</p><p>“Well next time, less support and more control, thanks,” Patrick demands. </p><p>Dylan pats Patrick on the head, still laid down on the kitchen table. Patrick sighs dejectedly and closes his eyes. He’s only been awake a little over an hour but he already hates how this morning is going. </p><p>Knowing he would go a lot crazier trying to deal with the sugar daddy app thing on his own, Patrick had woken up Dylan and Alex way earlier than they would have liked to wake up. As soon as they had heard what Patrick’s freak-out was all about, both of them had curiously and eagerly -the latter more Dylan than Alex- gotten out of bed to see everything with their own eyes. </p><p>“I know I said I was desperate last night,” Patrick says. “And I am, damn it. It’s just so fucking sad to see how much I actually mean it.”</p><p>“Hey,” Dylan pronounces, and he looks uncharacteristically serious. “There is nothing sad about you being in this situation, okay? If this is something that, I don’t know, you really wanted to try, or if this is just a stupid thing we let you do while drunk, like… It isn’t sad. We wouldn’t, like, judge you for it or anything.”</p><p>Patrick frowns and he straightens up, dislodging Dylan’s hand from where it was still resting on Patrick’s head. </p><p>“I’m not doing this, Dyls,” Patrick clarifies. “That would be crazy.”</p><p>Dylan puts down his mug and raises his hands, palms toward Patrick, in a sign of innocence. </p><p>“I’m just saying that if you did, it would be okay,” Dylan reiterates. “Like, we’d still support you.”</p><p>Patrick chuckles incredulously. “I’m not going to look for a sugar daddy, Dylan. What the hell? This was just, I don't know, stupidity mixed with too much booze but like… I’m not sinking that low! I still have some pride left.”</p><p>“Kaner—” Dylan tries to say but Patrick interrupts him. </p><p>“Also, the guys on the app are disgusting,” Patrick says. “I wouldn’t go near them no matter how much they paid me.”</p><p>“Some of them looked ready to pay a lot,” Dylan mumbles into his drink but Patrick ignores him. </p><p>“I’m deleting the app,” Patrick declares. “I just wanted you guys to see the kind of shit that you help me pull.”</p><p>“I would maybe rethink that, if I were you,” Alex says, after being silent for a suspiciously long time. </p><p>“What?” Patrick asks, raising his right eyebrow in incredulity. Even Dylan looks surprised while looking at Alex, obviously not expecting him to agree with his point of view. </p><p>“Fuck,” Alex whispers as he shakes his head. </p><p>He looks worried, maybe even a little guilty, and Patrick grows tense in a mere second. Alex lays Patrick’s phone down on the table and picks up his coffee mug, taking a long sip from it. Patrick and Dylan both stay silent, waiting for him to explain himself. </p><p>“You paid for it,” Alex says after putting down his cup. “You paid for a subscription to the app.”</p><p>“What?” Patrick asks once more, but this time his voice sounds a lot higher and a lot more panicked. He grabs his phone from where Alex left it and quickly goes to unlock it. </p><p>“I found it in your profile info,” Alex explains. “You paid for a two-month package. The app must have no free trials or maybe they only let you access certain things for free.”</p><p>Patrick is navigating the app as Alex talks, not quite believing what he’s hearing. He makes it to the Profile tab Alex must have found during his exploring, and he scrolls down a little to find what Alex is talking about. And find it he does. It’s there. Right there. </p><p>
  <em> Membership status: Diamond member (2 month-subscription for $29.95) </em>
</p><p>“Shit,” Patrick whispers, still looking at his screen, unblinking. “Shit, shit, shit.”</p><p>No matter how long he stares at it the writing doesn’t change. It occurs to him to go to his bank’s app and check his account and his world truly collapses all around him when his purchases statements confirm it. </p><p>Patrick paid $29.95 to gain access to a fucking sugar daddy website. He paid thirty fucking dollars. Thirty fucking dollars that he is no position to waste. </p><p>“Fuck!” Patrick yells, turning his phone screen-side down and laying it down on the table so he doesn’t have to look at the fucking thing anymore.</p><p>“Dude, I’m so sorry,” Dylan says. </p><p>“Yeah, Pat, same,” Alex apologizes too, sounding really regretful. “I can pay for some of that, man.”</p><p>“Me too,” Dylan agrees. “I mean, you were right before that this is kind of on us, too.”</p><p>Patrick takes a couple of deep breaths, putting his face in the palms of his hands, futilely trying to block out the outside world for a few seconds. </p><p>Thirty dollars. That could have gone towards grocery shopping, or for his CTA pass. If he was desperate before, he’s now on the edge of a breakdown. He chuckles ruefully as he shakes his head, moving his hands away from his face. </p><p>“Yeah, no, guys, it’s fine,” Patrick says, waving them off. “You don’t have to do that. It’s my mess, I’ll deal with it.”</p><p>“No, we’ll pay our share,” Alex insists. “It is kind of our fault too. Don’t be fucking stubborn.”</p><p>Patrick lets out a relieved sigh. He feels guilty and cheap taking this kind of help from his friends, but he’s truly in no position to refuse it. And he knows Dylan and Alex are trying to help him as much as they can because they hate having to see him struggling so much. </p><p>“Thanks,” Patrick says, a little choked up both from the gesture and the rollercoaster that this morning has been. “Seriously, guys, thank you.”</p><p>Dylan and Alex both smile at him and Patrick smiles back, willing the pressure on his chest to finally ease up a bit. It doesn't work. It stays put, like it has been staying put for so many days and weeks now. </p><p>“You know what?” Dylan says, sounding lighter again. “I think this proves you actually need to use the app now, dude. We paid for it, so fucking enjoy it as much as you can!”</p><p>The comment isn’t even humorous but Patrick finds himself bursting out laughing anyway, Dylan and Alex both following suit. It’s cathartic, in a way, to laugh and let go of the tension that this ordeal has created.</p><p>For a few minutes that’s all that Patrick does, he sits in the kitchen with his best friends and they laugh. They laugh, and laugh, and laugh. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>_____________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Patrick doesn’t forget about the app, not exactly, but he does manage not to think about it every minute of the next few days. The app is still on his homepage, the icon bright and intrusive among the rest of them, but Alex had at least turned off the notifications for him so he isn’t being spammed every second with messages or follow requests, even if they might still be happening.</p><p>Patrick had sent an email to <em> Dreamy </em> the same night he found the app on his phone, desperately trying to beg the company for a refund or a cancellation of his subscription, but all he received back was a pretty generic email about their No Refunds policy. Patrick hadn’t held any kind of real hope about it, so he didn't find it surprising, but it did make him shout into his pillow in frustration. </p><p>Before falling asleep one night, Patrick goes onto the app for the first time since Dylan and Alex had been on it. He forgoes looking at all the message notifications and just enters his profile information. He confirms that his subscription is set as an automatic renewal and that he can only cancel it a week before the next payment is set to go through. Patrick sets a Calendar Event on his phone reminding him to go through with the cancellation. </p><p>Dylan and Alex both keep their word and give Patrick ten dollars each to cover their part of the subscription. Patrick feels dirty taking their money, but he can’t deny that it feels good to have money to buy some pretty needed groceries. </p><p>And life goes on after that, no matter how much Pat wants it to just pause for a second. He’s still got classes to attend and projects to complete. His mom calls him every few days and Patrick realizes how good he’s gotten at hiding things from her when he reassures her for the hundredth time that he’s doing more than fine. </p><p>Things are the worst at night, when Pat lays down in bed and has countless minutes before falling asleep to think, think, think. He’s running out of places to send resumés to and he can feel the walls closing in on him more and more each night. </p><p>It’s an accident, when it happens. </p><p>It’s a Friday and both Alex and Dylan are out, working and at a party respectively. Patrick is in bed, curtains drawn and lights out, trying as hard as he can to clear his mind for once and let all worries go. The problem with trying not to think about something is that you always end up thinking about it more, Patrick has found. </p><p>He’s scrolling endlessly on his phone, trying to choose a silly game to play and hoping that it will keep his brain distracted enough, when his thumb slips on his phone’s homepage and he accidently clicks on the <em> Dreamy </em> app.</p><p>As soon as the app loads, a notification message pops up, informing him he’s got 77 unread messages and 38 friend requests. </p><p><em> How many people are using this app?, </em>Patrick thinks, baffled at the numbers reflected back at him. </p><p><em> Fuck, </em> is the next thing he thinks when he realizes his curiosity has been peaked a little.</p><p>For the first time since the app was installed on his phone, Patrick lets himself explore it properly. He moves through the message chat, clicking in and out of conversations without engaging with anyone. He reads several men’s profiles and laughs, grimaces, and scoffs at some of the things he encounters. </p><p>It’s fun, he quickly realizes. Meaningless and completely harmless, a simple way to pass the time that is new and exciting. </p><p>That’s how he ends up falling asleep, profiles slowly blurring together, and his mind quiet for a change. </p><p>When the next night finds him in the same exact spot going through the same exact motions, Patrick just reasons that it’s once again because he’s bored. </p><p>And when it happens again a few days later, Patrick doesn't even acknowledge it beyond thinking that everyone has their own weird Internet guilty pleasures. </p><p>He’s finally forced to admit things have gone beyond what he could have imagined, when he responds to a message for the first time. </p><p>He’s been browsing the app for about ten minutes when a message notification pops up. It’s from a name he vaguely recognizes, and when he moves to the chat feature he confirms that it’s from a man that has been sending him messages every few days since he first signed up.</p><p>He’s never visited the man’s profile before and when he does he can’t help but let out an incredulous chuckle at the profile picture he sees. The man’s profile says his name is Thomas but the picture is so distinctively one of Sidney Crosby that Patrick wonders if the guy even tried to put effort into it at all. </p><p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> “If you’re trying to catfish people you might want to use a picture of someone less famous.” </em></p><p>The man instantly blocks him and Patrick’s chest feels so light when he spends the next minute or so laughing about it by himself. Maybe it’s that instant rush of happiness that he feels that makes him open up a few more conversations to respond to more messages.</p><p>He calls out the men that send him disturbing messages, teases the ones that use the most clichéd pick-up lines, and laughs at some of the weird things some of them say. These conversations tend to go one of two ways: either Patrick gets blocked pretty much immediately or he lets the conversation die out when it loses its amusing factor. </p><p>It’s fun, meaningless, and completely harmless. </p><p>It’s something he finds himself doing during the next week when he’s bored or needs a pick-me-up. Patrick feels like he maybe starts understanding people who get really into social media better, because there’s something to be said about the mindless fun that this app is providing him with. </p><p>And if he’s honest, there’s also something to be said about the boost in self-confidence some of the messages and conversations give him. Not the overtly dirty messages, or the weird ones, really. But Patrick has been sent a few that have been if not sweet, then at least nice. Flattering. </p><p>Upon realizing his profile would stay in the app for the two months the subscription was going to last, Patrick had changed his profile picture from the one Dylan, Alex, and him set up that first night. All he’d done, really, was crop the photo he had been displaying before so his face wouldn't be visible. </p><p>That means that even the pleasant messages can only be about his body, the only part of him visible in the photograph. But Patrick is self-aware enough to accept that he still likes the compliments, either way. </p><p>Soon enough, it’s another Friday night that Patrick is spending at home. Another Friday night where he can’t get his mind to quiet on him. A Friday night that finds him sinking into the routine he hasn't set the past few days. </p><p><em> Dreamy </em> is weirdly active for a Friday night, although maybe that is normal for all dating apps. It’s not like Patrick would know. </p><p>There are more people online than there normally are, and a few men answer Patrick’s messages practically as soon as he sends them. It’s a little overwhelming and Patrick is debating closing the app and scrolling mindlessly through Dylan’s Netflix account when the notification for a new message pops up and catches his attention. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> “ <em> I’m only sending this message so my friend will leave me alone. Ignore it.” </em></p><p>Patrick’s eyebrows raise in surprise and the message is so intriguing that he sits up in his bed, where he had been previously laying down. Objectively, the message shouldn’t be anything special, not compared to some of the things Patrick has received during the past week. But the truth is, it <em> is </em> different. </p><p>It is, without a doubt, the most honest message Patrick has been sent. It’s real in a way most things in this app aren’t. </p><p>It’s interesting enough that Patrick clicks into the conversation and forgets about closing the app at least for a few more minutes. </p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “And what if I don’t ignore it?” </em></p><p>Patrick is pretty sure the answer to his question is simple: he didn’t ignore the man’s message but the man will definitely ignore his. It comes as a shock, then, that the three little dots that indicate the man is typing a reply appear on Patrick’s screen. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “Well, you didn't ignore it but there’s really nothing I can do about it. I was just trying to save you from a conversation that will go nowhere.” </em></p><p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> “A conversation that will go nowhere and yet you replied back. You’re not helping yourself if you really want me to ignore you.” </em></p><p>Pat moves to lay down once again, his head resting against his pillow, his blond hair haloed around his head. He huffs when a curl falls onto his forehead, pushing it away with his fingers only for it to fall back onto his face. Patrick’s hair has been getting too long for his tastes the past few weeks, but he can’t afford getting a haircut, and he’s got enough self-respect to not let Dylan or Alex get close to him with any scissors. </p><p>His phone buzzes in his hand and Patrick unlocks it, the screen showing the conversation with J.T.19 directly. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “I’ll do about anything at the moment to have an excuse not to talk to my friend, even having this conversation. I just didn't want to create any false expectations.” </em></p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “Fair enough. False expectations not created, don't sweat it. Now, I’m curious… Why are you not talking to your friend?” </em></p><p>J.T.19 is a really quick texter, Patrick realizes by the third message he sends. Few seconds pass between Pat’s messages and the replies the man sends. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “Because he’s a pain in the ass.” </em></p><p>The reply is concise but there’s something inside him that pushes Patrick to dig deeper, to push further, to not let the conversation die out. </p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “This the same guy who made you send me the message?” </em></p><p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>“The very same one.”</em></p><p>Patrick waits a few seconds for further explanation but the man still leaves things vague with his message. </p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “Oooookay… You always this chatty and charming?” </em></p><p>Patrick doesn’t wait for a response this time, and instead he clicks on the man’s username, the app taking him to the man’s profile page. </p><p>The first thing Pat sees is the man’s profile picture. The icon in the chat feature had been too small for Patrick to be able to discern it properly but he can now see that J.T.19’s picture is very similar to Patrick’s, what seems to be a very popular choice for the app: a shirtless, headless shot. </p><p>The man in the picture -if it really is J.T.19, seeing as how Pat’s encountered more than his fair share of cat-fishers in his time using the app- is broad-shouldered, his torso defined and strong. His skin looks golden and tanned, and he spots a light shimmer that Patrick guesses is sweat. The photo cuts off at the man’s mid-thigh, right where his athletic shorts end, showing just an inch of the skin of his upper leg. </p><p>There aren't any other pictures on the man’s profile, and Patrick doesn't have a face to put to the body, but he’s impressed nevertheless. He figures there’s a high probability of it being a real picture of whoever J.T19 is, because if it isn’t, cutting off the head for privacy purposes seems a little overboard. Or maybe J.T.19 is just more intelligent than your average cat-fisher and knows he’d get away easily with using someone else’s picture if no one could see who it really was. </p><p>On top of the screen a notification pops up and shows that J.T.19 has sent a new message. Pat clicks on the notification and is taken to the conversation immediately. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “I did tell you this conversation would go nowhere.” </em></p><p>Patrick rolls his eyes at the man’s response but he holds off writing his own when he notices the man is still writing another text. </p><p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>“But you’re right, I’m being kind of rude. I’m sorry. I don't often do this.”</em></p><p>Another message quickly follows. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “This is the first message I’ve ever sent in this app. In fact, this is the first message I’ve ever sent in any kind of dating app.” </em></p><p>Patrick reads the message, and then rereads it once more, only to end up reading it a third time. </p><p>It’s something Patrick has been hearing a lot this past week from some of the men he has engaged in conversation. There’s a surprising amount of them that play coy or inexperienced at talking to potential partners online, even though Patrick has been able to see through their act every time. There’s little tells, slip-ups that have let Pat see that what these men always try to do is make whoever it is that they’re talking to feel special. So he’s well-versed in this kind of back-and-forth by now. </p><p>There’s something about what J.T.19 is saying that has Patrick believing he’s telling the truth. </p><p>It’s refreshing to feel this way, to feel like the person at the other side of the app is a little more open and real than most people have been with him up until this moment. Maybe that’s why Patrick feels compelled to open up a little bit in return. </p><p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>“It’s fine, no worries. I’m also not super experienced with this whole thing.”</em></p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “But why do you have this app if you’re not one for dating sites, then?” </em></p><p>A minute passes without a response and Patrick assumes J.T.19 must be busy on the other end, so he decides to visit the man’s profile again to keep himself entertained. </p><p>He goes back to where he left things, having only seen the man’s photo when he first clicked on his profile. There isn’t actually much more to discover, Patrick quickly realizes.</p><p>J.T19’s profile states he lives in Chicago but is originally from Canada, that he’s in his 30s, that he doesn't smoke, that he’s a social drinker, that he’s got a college degree, and that his net worth is above $1,000,000. The written sections of the profile are filled in but only with a couple of generic sentences that state that the man loves outdoor activities, loves exercising, and is looking for someone fun to get to know. </p><p>Patrick frowns when he reaches the end of the profile and realizes there isn’t anything else to learn. He isn’t actually surprised, seeing as how most people don’t really have thorough information in their profiles and how J.T.19 has made it seem like he wasn't even that interested in signing up in the first place. He is disappointed, however, if only because he has no excuse to stay in J.T.19’s page any longer and has to click back to the conversation.</p><p>J.T.19 hasn’t responded yet and nothing indicates he’ll be doing it anytime soon so Patrick locks his phone and lets it drop to the mattress by his left hip. </p><p>Noise from the outside filters in through his closed window and Patrick closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. The sound of police sirens mixes in with music that Patrick assumes is coming out of a parked car below his building. It’s chaotic in the way the Chicago streets of his college neighborhood tend to be every Friday night. </p><p>It’s chaotic in a way Patrick used to love to experience back when he didn't have to constantly think about his life possibly going to shit. </p><p>Patrick groans as he sits up in bed, swinging his legs over the edge, his bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor. The hairs on his legs and arms raise at the touch of cold air that hits him when he throws his comforter aside, and Patrick walks briskly to the bathroom, trying to make it back to bed as quickly as possible. </p><p>When he makes it back to his bedroom he debates whether he should switch his athletic shorts and his short-sleeved t-shirt for a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, but he decides against it. He buries himself under his soft, white comforter again and rubs his legs together, willing them to warm up. </p><p>He closes his eyes for a few seconds, wondering if he could fall asleep already even though it’s barely 9:30pm. He opens his eyes again when he realizes that falling asleep now would only mean waking up extra-early the next day, and there’s nothing Patrick hates more than waking up unnecessarily early. </p><p>Pat grabs his phone again, resigned to a few more hours of mindless activity on it. </p><p>His screen tells him he’s got 2 new messages from J.T.19 and Patrick determines that he had been having enough fun to keep the conversation going a little longer. The length of the first message surprises Patrick when he opens the app.</p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “The answer is, once again, my friend. He’s been telling me for a long time to put myself out there but I’ve been wisely ignoring him. He’s grown more relentless lately and practically ripped my phone out of my hands to make this account.” </em></p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “As to why this particular app… I’m not really sure. His idea of a joke, I guess.”  </em></p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “His idea of a joke as in it’s funny because it’s not your thing or as in it’s funny because it is totally your thing?” </em></p><p>J.T.19 replies with the same promptness he had shown during the first few exchanges of messages of the night. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “Hmmm, not sure. I’ve never really tried anything similar so I wouldn’t be able to say.” </em></p><p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> “But you’d be able to afford it. I mean, your friend set you up here because you could potentially become a sugar daddy, huh?” </em></p><p><b>J.T.19: “</b> <em> Yeah, I guess. I don’t really know how much money it would require but sure, yeah I could, probably.” </em></p><p>Patrick exhales through his nose in amusement at the response, wondering how a written text can come out sounding so flustered, awkward, and weirdly humble. </p><p>The man has quickly revealed himself as an ocean of contradictions in just a short conversation: he’s been abrasive and apologetic, he’s been direct and shy, he’s been forth-coming and mysterious. Perhaps that’s why Patrick has felt something real in him. It’d be nearly impossible to fake something like this, something this complex and confusing and ever-changing. </p><p>Before Pat has time to think of a response, a new message from J.T.19 arrives and Patrick feels striking disappointment at what it says. </p><p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> “I need to leave now. I wanted to apologize again if I was rude at any point and thank you for the conversation. Goodbye, PattyK88.” </em></p><p>Pat’s left staring at his cell’s screen until it blackens and powers off. He touches the side button to check the time. It reads 9:43pm. </p><p>Patrick lets his arm fall to the mattress, his phone still loosely held in his hand. His eyes are focused on his ceiling, a play of shadow and light dancing across it. </p><p>Sirens start wailing once more in the distance when Patrick closes his eyes and thinks that maybe going to sleep might be a good decision after all. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2. it's gonna be alright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life doesn't seem to want to get easier for Patrick any time soon. </p>
<p>He finds a job by the beginning of March, but it’s a temporary one. A very temporary one. For two weeks, Pat’s life gets more hectic than it’s ever been before, even during the time he was working at the restaurant and having to take midterms or finals. </p>
<p>He’s working the longest hours of his life while attending classes and trying to get at least 5 hours of sleep at night. It’s overwhelmingly hard, but he only has two weeks of guaranteed work and he’s working on a commission, so he gives it his all for the duration of the sales campaign he’s participating in and saves as much money as he can.  </p>
<p>And then he’s once again back to being unemployed. He has a little more money in his bank account now, but he knows it will leave in an easier manner than it was earned. </p>
<p>Pat enjoys the freedom of inactivity for a couple of days after his contract ends. He sleeps for twelve hours straight, munches in front of the television as he uses Dylan’s Netflix account to watch mindless action movies, and takes a long relaxing bath with a bath bomb he treated himself to because it was on sale at a beauty store. </p>
<p>It’s relaxing until it isn’t, and soon enough the predicament he’s in crashes down on him once more, and the anxiety-ridden nights come back at him with a vengeance. </p>
<p>It’s during one of those nights that he’s reminded of <em> Dreamy </em>. </p>
<p>The app had completely slipped his mind during the time he was working. His brain hadn’t really had time to focus on superfluous things and <em> Dreamy </em> was, without a doubt, the most superfluous of superfluous things in his life. </p>
<p>But he can’t sleep now, and tossing and turning is certainly less entertaining and less desirable than taking a look at the app to catch up on two weeks worth of material. </p>
<p>Because the notifications for the app are turned off, it’s only once he’s opened it for the first time in weeks that he sees the hundreds and hundreds of messages, friend requests, and likes that he has received. </p>
<p>For a minute, Patrick stares dumbfounded at his screen. </p>
<p><em> Is this normal?, </em> he wonders. <em> Is this something every person that signs up as a sugar baby goes through?, </em>he thinks.</p>
<p>
  <em> Or is it just me? </em>
</p>
<p>The thought crosses his mind and he feels immediately thrilled and embarrassed all at once. </p>
<p>He’s past the point of denying that the attention doesn't flatter him at least a little bit. He knows not every guy on the app is someone he’d really consider ever being with -in fact, there’s very few people on the app he’d actually consider- but when everything else in his life is so out of control, taking pride in people being interested in him feels a little less conceited and a little more empowering. </p>
<p>It’s an issue of survival, in a way, a question of finding things that keep him going every day when he feels like crumbling down would be an easier choice. And if what brings him joy is a stupid app where strange men seem to go nuts for a chance to just talk to him, Patrick will take a deep breath and accept it with as much dignity as he can. </p>
<p>As he starts browsing the app and catching up on what he’s missed for the past two weeks, Pat actively works on pushing down the instinctual shame he feels. He tries to remind himself that he’s always advocated for never judging anyone on their choices if their actions don’t hurt anybody, so feeling shame for himself would be hypocritical. </p>
<p>Minute by minute, it gets easier for him to ignore the tiny part of him voicing discomfort in his brain. The messages men have sent him incite the same reactions they used to when he was new to the app: they make him laugh, or mockingly gag in disgust in the solitude of his room, or scoff out loud. It’s as easy and meaningless as it was a couple of weeks ago and Patrick takes comfort in that. </p>
<p>Pat’s caught up with five or six conversations when the name of the next user who’s sent him a message makes him pause. J.T.19, the display name reads. A pink number 1 indicates that the chat has one new message that Patrick hasn’t opened yet. </p>
<p>Patrick only talked to J.T.19 once but it’s both surprising and unsurprising to him that he still remembers the man so vividly. Before he stopped using the app because of his hectic schedule, Patrick had probably responded and talked to well over 50 people. He wouldn't be able to say what 90% of those conversations were about even if his life depended on it. </p>
<p>The conversation with J.T.19 was different.</p>
<p>It was shorter than some of the other conversations he had had, but Pat recalls the feeling of realness it had given him. For probably the first time in using the app Pat had felt like he had been talking to a completely full-fledged human being. Not a caricature of a flirter, or the desperation of a single man, or the sweetness of a romantic. A complete human being, with his doubts and pet peeves and virtues and thoughts. </p>
<p>All this must explain why Patrick feels so irrationally happy at seeing that J.T.19 had messaged him again 6 days ago, according to the app’s timestamp. When they had ended their conversation weeks before, Patrick would have sworn that would have been the one and only time he’d hear from J.T.19. It’s pleasant to see he was wrong. </p>
<p>Pat clicks without hesitation into the conversation and he’s both disappointed and intrigued by what he reads. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> you must be pretty special if you’re the only boy Jonny has messaged, huh? 👀 </em></p>
<p>The first thing that catches Patrick’s attention is, of course, the name included in the message. Patrick easily assumes that the message must have been sent by some friend of J.T.19 and that they’re either completely unconcerned with revealing the man’s name to a total stranger, unaware that they even did it, or oblivious to how dangerous it could really be. </p>
<p>Whatever the reason, Patrick has to admit he’s a little happy with the slip. </p>
<p>
  <em> Jonny.  </em>
</p>
<p>The second thing Patrick notices upon reading the message for a second time is the real meaning of it. If whoever sent the message is to be believed -and Patrick has already decided to believe them about J.T.19’s name- Jonny has only contacted Patrick in all his time using the app. </p>
<p>It would make sense, actually, given their conversation weeks ago. Jonny didn’t really seem invested in the whole thing, nor did he seem enthusiastic about it. He made it sound like a chore, like something he was doing under duress so he could avoid something more annoying down the line. </p>
<p>Even knowing all this information, Patrick feels a tiny bit of flattery fluttering in his chest and his cheeks tint a soft pink color. Yes, Jonny didn't really want to message anyone, or so it seemed. But the one person he chose to message<em> was </em> Patrick. That could potentially mean something, even something as trivial as Patrick’s profile being better than the profiles for the rest of the people on the app. </p>
<p>Once again, Patrick takes his victories and his triumphs where he can get them nowadays, and this feels like at least something small to be content about. If he can rejoice in some of the attention other people have given him on <em> Dreamy, </em>he can definitely tuck this one little show of appreciation from a stranger named Jonny close to his heart. </p>
<p>Jonny’s message -or rather, his friend’s message- stares back at Patrick for a few more minutes. Patrick touches the screen once when the brightness on it dims, keeping it from locking automatically. He taps on the text box once to reply, but as soon as the cursor starts blinking at him, he immediately starts doubting himself. </p>
<p>There are far more reasons to not reply to the message than there are to actually go ahead and attempt to restart the conversation. For one, the last message was sent six days ago, and responding now feels like walking into an exam two hours late. There’s also the fact that it wasn’t even Jonny, J.T.19 or whatever you want to call the person who had first messaged Patrick, who had sent the last message. He hadn't even sent a follow-up message to the one his friend sent and maybe that means he had hoped the communication between Patrick and him wouldn’t be picked back up. </p>
<p>No matter how hard Pat wracks his brain, he can’t come up with a single good counter-argument as to why messaging Jonny now would be a good idea. </p>
<p>And yet, his fingers move across the screen of his phone, typing out letters, forming words, and composing sentences that end up creating an entire message ready to be sent. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Feels good to know your name now, Jonny. Thank whoever your friend was that sent that message for helping me uncover the secrets of such a mysterious man. </em></p>
<p>It’s ridiculous, a little nonsensical, and could even be interpreted as flirty, depending on how one were to read it. Patrick weighs all of this in his mind, his right thumb hovering over the delete button. </p>
<p>But then he remembers that he’s using a sugar daddy app that he accidentally paid for when he and his best friends got drunk so he could forget about his fucking mess of a life. He remembers that the man he’s thinking of messaging is a stranger that he won’t ever have to think of again if he doesn't want to. He remembers everything about this -all his anxieties and worries about this stupid app- will most likely die down as soon as he sends the message because Jonny won’t reply to him. </p>
<p>When everything is put into perspective like that, when he measures everything that could go wrong, it feels so much easier to just throw caution to the wind and do the stupid thing. There’s a certain liberty he feels knowing the consequences of a failure will be minimal for him here. </p>
<p>So he sends the message. </p>
<p>Patrick watches as a little R next to the timestamp on the message indicates that it has been received. He stares at it for close to a minute but finally he clicks out of the conversation and goes back to his chat inbox where he can see the rest of his conversations. </p>
<p>He scrolls up and down a few times, trying to decide which conversation to open next, but suddenly it feels like he’s really not looking forward to messaging strangers anymore. Having been reminded of how the short convo with Jonny felt amidst all the conversations he’s had on this app makes the mere idea of talking to anyone else feel dull. </p>
<p>The noise of the front door opening is a saving grace in that moment. Patrick can make out both Alex’s and Dylan’s voices coming from the hall and he immediately locks his phone, throws it to the side, and jumps out of bed. </p>
<p>He opens his door just as Dylan is walking by and he almost bumps into him in his haste to leave his room.</p>
<p>“Dude!” Dylan exclaims, taking a step back to avoid running into Pat.</p>
<p>“I’m bored out of my mind,” Pat announces, not bothering with a greeting. “Please tell me we can do something now.”</p>
<p>Alex makes his way over to them, still wearing his work uniform. </p>
<p>“Give me a few minutes to change and then we can put on a movie or something,” Alex says. </p>
<p>“Thank God,” Patrick exhales, prompting Dylan to laugh and Patrick has to swat at his hand when Dylan tries to ruffle his hair. </p>
<p>“We missed you too, Kaner” Dylan says, jokingly blowing Pat a kiss before walking into his room to drop off his things. </p>
<p>Pat rolls his eyes as he walks to the living room, sitting down on the couch to wait for Alex and Dylan, leaving his phone completely forgotten in his room. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Watching a movie ends up turning into watching three episodes of <em> Parks &amp; Rec </em> and preparing ramen for dinner so they can eat it messily on the couch. None of them are really good with chopsticks but they're all too stubborn to admit it, and the couch’s stained surface is definite proof of that.  </p>
<p>Dylan is first to retreat to his room when he remembers he promised his mom he’d wake up early the next day to Skype with his family. Patrick is actually the one to nudge Alex out of a state of semi-unconsciousness so he’ll leave for bed before he completely falls asleep. </p>
<p>Patrick himself stays in the living room a little while longer, starting the first episode of a sitcom he’s never watched before, and exiting it when it does nothing to keep his attention. He admits defeat soon after and, for lack of anything else to do, he moves into the kitchen to clean up the mess they would normally leave behind for another day or two.  </p>
<p>When he’s done, he turns off every light behind him, checks that the front door is locked, and makes his way back to his room. </p>
<p>When he walks in, Patrick bypasses the room’s light switch in lieu of heading towards the nightstand so he can turn on the lamp there. </p>
<p>Patrick throws himself down on the bed and he goes through his to-do list for the next few days in his mind. There are two school projects he should get started on but he knows he will keep pushing them off until the last possible minute. He promised his sisters he would Skype with them as soon as possible so he needs to get back to them and set a date. He needs to thoroughly clean his room and probably convince Alex and Dylan to clean the kitchen and bathroom as well. </p>
<p>He knows there’s something else essential that he’s forgetting so he grabs his phone in the hopes that he might have written it down in the Notes app. But as soon as he picks up his phone, any kind of thought of to-do lists, responsibilities, or anything else, completely flies out of his brain. </p>
<p>J.T.19 -who has inevitably become Jonny in Patrick’s mind now- has responded to his message. </p>
<p>Such a small thing shouldn't fill Patrick with all the joy he’s feeling, but he ignores the voice in his head shaming him for his excitement and immediately unlocks his phone to read Jonny’s message. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I had no idea that message had been sent. A friend of mine thinks he’s very funny when he’s in fact not.  </em></p>
<p>The message doesn’t give Pat any kind of new information but it’s so much more than he was expecting. And the best thing is that it gives Patrick hope that Jonny will keep a conversation going with him if Pat keeps replying back. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Is this the same friend who signed you up for the app? </em></p>
<p>Almost immediately after the message sends, the dots that indicate that Jonny is typing appear on Pat’s lower screen. Pat taps his fingers impatiently against his phone as he waits for Jonny’s response. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em> Yes. Unfortunately he’s full of terrible ideas… </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I’m going to start thinking you only have this one friend. And you didn't even choose him very well lmao </em></p>
<p>Patrick reads the message he has typed out before sending it, and then he realizes Jonny has actually completely ignored a key component of the message Pat sent that started this conversation again. He composes a second message and sends it. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Also, don’t think you can just ignore the fact that I now know your name, Jonny. Mr. This Conversation Will Go Nowhere. JONNY. Mr. Aloof. J-O-N-N-Y. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Congratulations, I guess. You know the bare minimum about me. It’s only fair, since I’ve known your name since the very beginning, Patty. P-A-T-T-Y.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick chuckles at the amount of spite the message carries. He loves that Jonny isn’t afraid to take a shot at him even though they don’t know each other at all. But he also loves that, in poking fun at Patrick, Jonny still manages to be both more respectful and more interesting than anyone else on <em> Dreamy </em>. </p>
<p>Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t felt belittled or actually put down once in his time talking to Jonny that makes Pat comfortable enough to share a real fact about himself. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>No one but my mom actually calls me Patty, really. And she only does it when I’m at my lowest and won’t complain about it. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Using the nickname your mom calls you to sign up to a sugar daddy website? Kinkier than I would have expected, Patty.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> OH MY GOD, DON’T </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:  </b> <em> SHUT UP </em></p>
<p>Patrick has to cover his mouth with his left hand so he won’t laugh out loud and disturb Alex, who sleeps in the room right next to his. It’s obvious to him how quickly the conversation is growing comfortable, funny, and flirty. It surprises him a bit that Jonny is really allowing it to, seeing as how truly adamant he had sounded last time when he said their conversation would go nowhere. </p>
<p>Maybe he has learned, as Patrick did after only five minutes surfing <em> Dreamy, </em>that flirty and fun conversations in this app mean a thousand times less than flirty and fun conversations in the real world. </p>
<p><b>JT.19:</b> <em>You’re the one who turned the conversation weird by mentioning your mom on a sugar daddy website. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> We weren’t talking about any sugar daddy-ish things! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I repeat, it’s a sugar daddy website.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>But okay, I don't like being the one at a disadvantage now. What should I call you then, if not Patty?</em></p>
<p>Patrick bites his lip at the question. Rationally, he knows it’s easy to come to the conclusion that his name is Patrick simply by looking at his username. But it feels much more decisive and even dangerous to be the one to confirm it. </p>
<p>He can hear his mom’s voice in his head chastising him for even thinking about giving this one tiny piece of information to a complete stranger. He can even imagine Dylan’s worried and flabbergasted reaction at finding out that Pat’s opening up to a guy he actually met on this stupid app. </p>
<p>But Patrick goes ahead and follows his gut. The gut that’s telling him there’s nothing to lose by letting Jonny have this one small victory.</p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> Well, my name is Patrick but most people do use a nickname for me. You can call me Pat, if you want.  </em></p>
<p>It’s not exactly the full truth, really. A lot of people call him Pat, yes, and not many people actually use his full name to address him outside of professional or academic settings. But Patrick’s closest friends tend to always call him <em> Kaner </em>, mainly because Patrick’s closest friends come mostly from his involvement with hockey. </p>
<p>Nowadays, Patrick’s hockey life is reduced to the beer league where he met Alex and Dylan. They hold practices twice a week for a couple hours, and even that is sometimes hard to sustain for full-time college students that hold part-time jobs as well. </p>
<p>But Patrick has never once considered dropping the sport, just like he knows the other players on his team haven’t either. They’re all young guys that love the game too much not to be willing to make a few sacrifices for it. </p>
<p>Telling Jonny about all of this is not wise, Patrick knows. And if Jonny were to ask where the nickname comes from, Pat could maybe be vague about it, sure, but that doesn’t erase the fact that it’s only one letter away from his actual last name and a stranger on a sugar daddy website knowing his full name is not something Pat would be too happy about. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Nice to meet you, Pat. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Nice to meet you too, Jonny. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Wait, does this mean that the conversation is going somewhere? I mean, I feel like an introduction is just the start of something, right? RIGHT?</em></p>
<p>Patrick is truly wondering about it, about whether Jonny has changed his mind about not wanting to engage anyone on the app, but he doesn't want to sound too eager or desperate by outright asking, so covering it up with teasing is the next best thing.</p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>If by going somewhere you mean entertaining me for the moment because I have nothing better to do then sure.</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Wow, you know how to make the boys feel special…  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Or I guess just BOY seeing as how you only messaged me huh…. 👀 </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Don’t you go feeling cocky about that. Did you forget my absolute disinterest in this app? </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>How can I, when you remind me every second?</em></p>
<p>Patrick repositions on his bed, leaving his phone by his side as he takes off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. He has to stand up from the bed to take off his sweatpants and as he does this his phone vibrates twice on the bed. Patrick rushes through the movements, abandoning his clothes on the floor, so he can throw himself back in bed and grab his phone.</p>
<p>He unlocks his phone as he burrows himself under the comforter, lying down on his back, his head on the pillow and his arms raised so his phone is at eye level. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I mean, you really can’t tell me that you find it interesting.  </em></p>
<p><b>JT.19: </b> <em> There’s nothing but shirtless pictures of dudes or dick pictures of the same dudes or terrible lines from yet again the same dudes. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Okay, boomer. I’m just going to assume you’re in your 80s if any of that is surprising to you.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>And is this you confessing that you’ve actually browsed the app?! That you’ve actually used it more than once?!</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> … Maybe.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>I get bored like everyone else in the world and it’s right there downloaded on my phone.</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>You could delete it.</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I fucking paid for it so I have to redeem it. </em></p>
<p>Patrick laughs softly at the comment, thinking of his own use of the app for the exact same reason. It makes him feel a little less embarrassed about it, especially because Jonny doesn’t even have the excuse that the amount of money is incredibly significant for him. Pat doesn’t know how much money Jonny makes or has but all signs point to it being a fuckton more than Patrick. </p>
<p>Patrick doesn’t do it on purpose but his eyes glance over the time on top of his screen and his eyes widen when he sees it. </p>
<p>He’s spent a lot longer than he even noticed messaging Jonny back and forth and Patrick marvels at it. There hasn't been a lull in the conversation, no point where there was nothing they could say to each other, no moment when Patrick wondered why he even kept the convo going. It’s been so easy, so comfortable. </p>
<p>The clock moves forward another minute and Patrick has to finally admit to himself that he needs to try and fall asleep now so he’ll be able to function tomorrow and do at least one of the many things he needs to do. </p>
<p>He hates having to type a goodbye to Jonny, hates it so irrationally and passionately. He’s more confident now than he was when he sent his message earlier today that Jonny might answer him again if Pat decided to mesagae him another day. There’s still doubt, however, still a possibility that Pat won’t ever hear from Jonny again, the one guy who has made the stupid use of this stupid app a little worth it. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Yeah, I get that way too well haha.</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Anyway, I need to leave now. Go enjoy all the shirtless pics and all the dick pics and all the lines from random dudes that this app offers. </em></p>
<p>Patrick waits until he receives a response from Jonny to close the app and put down his phone.</p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> No, thanks. I think I’ll be taking my leave too. Goodnight, Patrick.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick doesn’t write back, liking that Jonny is the last one to send a message before the conversation ends. In his mind, however, he whispers a goodnight before turning off the light and turning onto his side to make his blissful trek to sleep. </p>
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<p>Patrick breaks down in the middle of his Skype session with his sisters a few days later. </p>
<p>The first half hour goes great and he gets to catch up with all three of them individually and collectively. They talk about school, friends, their parents; and Erica monopolizes the conversation for a while trying to get his opinion on certain college related topics.</p>
<p>The girls soon start asking him when his next visit will be and Patrick immediately feels paralyzed. He tries to deflect their questions and change the topic, but they’re insistent and persistent. </p>
<p>Jess mentions she would love it if he could make it to her 16th birthday party. Jackie says she hopes he can spend more than the normal week or ten days at home he can usually get for the summer. Erica insists that having him around would help her immensely with college planning. </p>
<p>Patrick can’t handle breaking their hearts, because breaking their hearts means breaking his own. He doesn't know how to tell them that a visit home is nowhere near something he can afford right now, both financially and emotionally. </p>
<p>He has no way of paying for the tickets to get from Chicago to Buffalo and then back, and he refuses to ask his parents for the money when it’s something he hasn’t needed to do before. Being home would also mean having to carefully measure his words constantly, in order not to let anyone know of his precarious situation. </p>
<p>In the end, the irony is that his worries of staying hidden and not asking for help and handling everything on his own are what end up exposing just how much he does need the support. </p>
<p>When Jackie complains for the third time about his vague answers and his attempts at deflection, he snaps bitterly at her, making her eyes widen in shock and then fill with tears as Jess and Erica boggle at him from their seats next to her. </p>
<p>It’s this, the sight of his sisters’ bewildered and upset faces, that finally brings Patrick over the edge. He starts crying profusely, as if a dam had broken after a massive storm, rivers of water cascading down his face. He tries to cover his face with his hands quickly but he knows he hasn't spared his sisters the sight of him absolutely losing it. </p>
<p>Once he starts, he can’t keep it in check and he just cries and cries and cries. He feels both lighter and heavier than he’s felt in a while, and everything around him disappears as he finally allows himself the opportunity to grieve and not just worry. </p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long his crying fit lasts and he’s almost forgotten that his sisters are on the other end of his computer when he hears the soothing voice of his mom calling his name. </p>
<p>Patrick lifts his head up and moves his hands away from his eyes to look at his computer screen. He feels five years old again when his chest bursts open in relief at seeing his mom’s familiar face. She’s so far away from him geographically but the comfort of her is something that will never leave Patrick. </p>
<p>He’s been living on his own for a couple of years now, in a completely different state and in a completely different environment, and it’s terrifying to be faced with how much he still needs his mom even now. Patrick should be striving for independence and self-reliance, but he wants the world to grant him his one wish in this moment and carry him magically into his mother’s arms. </p>
<p>Patrick can’t avoid the truth any longer, so when his mom asks him what’s wrong Patrick opens his mouth and lets everything spill out of him. It’s painful and it’s liberating at the same time and Patrick doesn't even pause to take a breath, afraid that if he stops his explanation his reflexes will kick back in and make him close the gates to his mind again. </p>
<p>His dad joins the conversation in the middle of Patrick’s monologue about his situation, and although it makes things a thousand times harder for him, Pat is glad his mom has someone to squeeze her shoulder and comfort her. </p>
<p>After more tears, and laments, and reassurances, and words of love and comfort, the conversation ends with Patrick’s parents telling him they’re giving him some money to make the next few weeks easier on him. Pat feels like a failure and he refuses at first, trying to explain once again why he’s been avoiding asking for help for so long, but his parents are adamant about it. They promise Patrick they can handle it and that it will be just an issue of restructuring finances for a while. </p>
<p>Patrick cries again when, for the first time in so long, his lungs feel like they’ve remembered to take in oxygen again. </p>
<p>By the time he hangs up the call after apologizing to his sisters and telling his entire family that he loves them, his mom has made sure he knows he’s going to be going home in the summer to visit them and also never again withholding information like this from them. </p>
<p>Dylan and Alex are overjoyed when Patrick tells them about his parents offering him help. Pat realizes they were more concerned about him than they had let on and he has to work hard not to let that become one more thing to feel guilty about. </p>
<p>It becomes weirder to use <em> Dreamy </em> from that point onward. </p>
<p>Before, it served to constantly remind Pat of how deep his desperation ran. It might have been a stupid, drunken joke that left him with the app installed on his phone, but there was something inside him that had been open enough to the mere possibility of it, to the idea of putting himself in a position of vulnerability to earn some money.</p>
<p>Now, as he moves through the app trying to keep himself entertained during a lull between classes, he can’t help but truly wonder about the mechanics of it all. </p>
<p>Was desperation what drove all the other people signed up as sugar babies to this app? Was it something they would never choose for themselves if really given an opportunity?</p>
<p>Or, on the other hand, are there people here that, when faced with all of the choices in the world, would always choose this one route? Are these boys and girls who truly enjoy the idea of a relationship where everything revolves around that kind of power imbalance?</p>
<p>Being spoiled and cherished and lavished sounds amazing in theory, but Patrick wonders how long it would take him to start feeling like a hot commodity. He wonders how comfortable he would truly feel knowing that the person he was with had so much more financial power than he has. </p>
<p>It’s all about perspective, maybe, is the conclusion Patrick ends up reaching. And he guesses it might have to do with the negotiation involved between the people in the relationship, too. No two “conventional” relationships are the same so why would sugar baby/sugar daddy relationships all fall under the same category? </p>
<p>Once Patrick starts thinking about it more deeply, it’s like he can’t turn it off. For the next few days, even though he doesn't use the app, he can’t help but think about his own feelings regarding sugar daddy arrangements and what the real experience must be like. </p>
<p>He’s walking home from the grocery shop when he passes by a shop with a gorgeous jacket on display in its window and Patrick can’t help but wonder if a sugar daddy would buy that for him if he asked. </p>
<p>A romantic comedy is playing on TV one day, showing some kind of romantic dinner date between the two main characters, and Patrick wonders if a sugar daddy would like to take him to fancy places or if he would think Pat wasn't sophisticated enough for things like that. </p>
<p>The smallest stuff sets off dozens of different questions that make Patrick realize a few things in just a couple of days: first, he’s been thinking way too much about the issue for it to be something that doesn't intrigue him in the slightest; second, a sugar daddy arrangement involves a lot more intricacies than Pat thought it did, if all these are questions that can arise about it; and lastly, the only way Patrick could see himself ever agreeing to a relationship like that would be by entering it with someone that already held all of his trust. </p>
<p>He hates feeling dependent on people, hates feeling like his fate and his life are not under his control, so giving someone else so much power over his finances? Allowing someone to become his whole livelihood? That would be something that Patrick could never be comfortable with. </p>
<p>Except, maybe, if the other person didn't see it that way. If Patrick could trust someone to never see him as anything but an equal, and if Patrick could trust this someone to never use money against him in a relationship like that, then perhaps he’d consider allowing someone to become his financial crutch. </p>
<p>But Patrick knows too much about people and about the world. He knows there is no one he could ever trust like that, because people become petty, self-absorbed, and vindictive when they feel threatened or hurt or unloved. </p>
<p>Sure, in some alternate universe where Patrick finds the perfect man, he’d pretty much consider anything for him. But there is no perfect man. And Patrick would be surprised if there could even be a perfect man <em> for him </em>. </p>
<p> </p>
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<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Tell me the truth, is this app always like this?</em></p>
<p>The message comes in the middle of Patrick’s Philosophical Foundations of Public Policy lecture and he can’t exercise the patience to leave it unopened until class ends. </p>
<p>Back in the beginning of freshman year, Pat would have been terrified to pull out his phone in the middle of a lecture to mess around with it. By now, well into his junior year, Patrick knows there’s nothing holding him back from completely forgetting about the discussion his professor is trying to start. </p>
<p>Pat looks at the front of the class once to make sure his professor isn’t looking at him and then starts typing. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Like what? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>I just opened it accidentally and a notification popped up telling me that I have 79 messages and 22 friend requests. What the hell?</em></p>
<p>Patrick shakes his head in amusement. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Yes hahaha. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Either the app is always like this or you and I are some kind of catnip to all the men who use it, because I also find myself with dozens and dozens of messages every day as well.</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Are you bragging about all the men who hit on you?</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>WTF YOU WERE THE ONE WHO DID IT FIRST. YOU TOLD ME ABOUT ALL YOUR MESSAGES.</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> It was not a brag! I don’t want to have all these messages!  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Also, isn’t the sugar daddy supposed to be the one to message people? Like, I would guess he’s the one doing the “seducing” or “wooing”, right? </em></p>
<p>Patrick scoffs at the message, making the girl sitting next to him turn her head and glare at him for disturbing her. He feels his cheeks flare up in embarrassment as he scoots down in his seat, making sure that the body of the guy in front of him provides him cover as he continues typing on his phone.</p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Okay, first of all, no one says wooing in the 21st century, gramps. And second, isn't that like saying that only guys can do the “seducing” in a heterosexual relationship? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Not really? Or maybe it is? I don’t know… </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Damn Sharpy. I never wanted to have to wonder about the dynamics of sugar daddy relationships and his dumb ass had to sign me up for this stupid app.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick has never heard the name before but he can easily put the pieces together. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Sharpy is the friend who signed you up? Your only friend? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> He’s not my only friend.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> But yes, he’s the friend who signed me up.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick tucks that piece of information away, locking it up in his brain so he won’t forget it. </p>
<p>In his first two conversations with Jonny -the only ones he’s had with him before today- Pat had ended up feeling a lot more vulnerable than he would have anticipated. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s never really done the social media thing before and he’s not too proficient in it or maybe it’s something about Jonny himself, but Pat is able to discern that he opened himself up a lot more than most people would have considered advisable with a stranger. </p>
<p>That’s why any small revelation that comes from Jonny about himself feels like validation. It makes Patrick feel a little more secure, somehow. He is aware, obviously, that the man behind the screen name J.T.19 could be lying about absolutely everything, but he doesn’t like to think about that too much. Firstly, because it would only make him more paranoid. And secondly, because who the fuck would make up a friend called <em> Sharpy </em>?</p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Sure, he’s not your only friend… But anyway, I’ve been doing some thinking about sugar daddy relationships myself as well and it certainly seems more complicated than one would think.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick expects a response to come pretty much immediately after he sends his message but a minute passes -and then another passes as well- with no reply. He’d chalk it up to his message not needing a response or Jonny dropping the conversation if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been watching the dots that indicate that Jonny is typing appear and disappear multiple times through that time. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Dude, just send it. </em></p>
<p>The dots appear again on Patrick’s phone screen and he waits impatiently for Jonny to listen to him and just send the message. His screen goes dark before Jonny replies but it quickly lights up with a notification. </p>
<p>Patrick unlocks his screen and reads the message Jonny was so hesitant to send.</p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I just realized I don’t actually know how familiar with sugar daddies and this app you are. I never asked you and it’s just… Weird. </em></p>
<p>Another message comes quickly after that, like Jonny didn’t want Patrick to misunderstand his last words. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Not weird because I think that you being in a sugar daddy relationship is weird. Just weird that it never occurred to me that you might be well-versed in this.</em></p>
<p>Reading the message, Patrick tries to recall all of his previous exchanges of information with Jonny, looking for a sign that he told Jonny about being new to the app as well. The only thing that comes to his mind is the instance when Jonny admitted to him he’d only been using the app because he had already paid for it and Patrick told him his case was the same. </p>
<p>He’s not exactly sure what his wording was but it must have been vague enough that Jonny didn’t discern from it that Patrick has as much experience with this entire situation as he does. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>My experience in the sugar daddy dating world amounts to this. To talking to you on this app. </em></p>
<p>Pat rereads his own message after he sends it and quickly begins typing again so Jonny won’t find it weird that Pat has just basically confessed to his conversations with Jonny being the only ones of interest to him. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> And to like a few other dudes, as well. Like a few times.  But nothing else. Basically I downloaded the app as a kind of joke and accidentally paid for it so I’m trying to make the most out of it i guess. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> So we’re on the same boat, I see.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Kind of but not really. Your boat must be some kind of luxurious yacht and mine is a canoe with more than one hole blown in it. That’s why you signed up as a sugar daddy and I signed up as a sugar baby. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Fair enough. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> You know, weirdly, it makes me feel a little better to know I’m not the only person who has no idea what they're doing here.  </em></p>
<p>Pat’s lips curl into a smile at the comment. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Yeah, it is good knowing you’re just as baffled about this as I am. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>I hope you don’t mind me asking…</em></p>
<p>Patrick raises an eyebrow at the message, curious to see what Jonny’s going to be saying next but glad that this time around Jonny hasn’t hesitated as much to message something he wasn't completely sure about. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> What is it that you do?  </em></p>
<p>Jonny’s message comes through and Patrick feels his breath catch. The question is direct and to the point. Patrick could choose to not answer it if he wanted to, of course, but the simple fact that it’s there, spelled out for Patrick to read over and over again, is mostly what makes it so earth-shattering. </p>
<p>Up until this point, Patrick had been viewing his chats with Jonny as a little bit of a game, an escapist sort of dream that Pat could retreat to and use as a way to forget about all the bullshit he’s truly facing. </p>
<p>There have been moments when Patrick has opened the window up to more real things when messaging Jonny, moments where he’s been worried he’s shared too much, blurred the line between life and escape. But all of those instances have been guided and led by him, done on his own terms. </p>
<p>Now it’s Jonny who’s taking control. It’s Jonny who’s reaching towards Patrick. Jonny, who said in his first ever message to Patrick, that their conversation would go nowhere. Jonny who, despite that, was the one to start this conversation. </p>
<p>Patrick knows he has a decision to make and, for some reason he can’t quite discern, he feels as if the decision is more important than it seems to be at surface level. </p>
<p>Around him, the class vibrates with energy once more and Pat looks up to find everyone in motion, picking up their things, and standing up from their seats, making it obvious that Pat has missed the entire lecture and has even missed his professor signaling the end of the class. </p>
<p>There’s not much that Pat has to collect, just his laptop, and he does it while still holding his phone in his hand. He puts it in his backpack as he continues to mull over the question Jonny asked. He goes back and forth on it, knowing he has to make a decision, knowing that Jonny might be somewhere in Chicago waiting by his cell for an acknowledgement. </p>
<p>In the end, Patrick ends up jumping head first from a cliff without checking to see if there’s any water underneath waiting to break his fall. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>I’m a college student. Studying Political Science and undecided on what it is that I really want to do with my future. </em></p>
<p>Jonny’s response comes as Pat is walking down the stairs and he’s in such a hurry to read it that he trips and bumps into the girl that had been sitting next to him in class. Once more, the girl fulminates him with her eyes and Patrick swallows harshly, sending her an apologetic smile. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em> Aaah, to be young and full of possibilities…  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> When I was in college, I also had no idea what I really wanted to be doing. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> It ended up working out for you, though, Mr. I Could Easily Be A Sugar Daddy. </em></p>
<p>Patrick walks out of class while reading Jonny’s reply to his teasing message and he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from his phone. The conversation just goes on and on and on, and every time Patrick thinks it’s going to end he’s proven wrong. </p>
<p>As Patrick leaves the building, Jonny tells him he studied to be a physiotherapist in college but ended up founding his own fitness and wellness startup with some school buddies. </p>
<p>As he rides the train back home, Patrick asks questions that Jonny has no hesitancy answering. What is it that his company really does? Is it difficult running his own company? Is his business a really lucrative one?</p>
<p>Before he’s even made it back to the apartment, Patrick has amassed an incredible amount of information from Jonny and all of it without truly being asked for any reciprocation on his part. Jonny hasn't been completely careless about his sharing though, toying the line between personal and vague pretty successfully. </p>
<p>At one point, when Patrick has already made it home and he’s making himself some lunch, Jonny is explaining to him his company’s newest product, some kind of ring to measure one’s heart rate. </p>
<p>Patrick, who feels a little bit like a sounding board for a bunch of different ideas, asks Jonny why he’s trusting a stranger with so many company secrets. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> They’re not company secrets. This is a product we’ve just launched, that’s the opposite of a secret. Also, it’s not like I work for the government, you know? Company secrets aren’t that valuable in my line of work. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> Fair enough. Also, that’s if I really believe that everything you’re telling me is true, of course.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> What do you mean? You think I’d lie about what I do for a living? </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Everyone lies on the Internet, Jonny. It’s just how it is.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick has been trying to avoid thinking too much about it, but he’s kept it in the back of his mind for the entirety of the conversation. There is nothing real tying him to this random man online except for what he’s been told and what he’s been told could all be fabrications. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> And you’d think I’d be lame enough to make up a fake start-up instead of telling you something more interesting? </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Being a rich CEO is more than interesting enough! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em> Oh yeah, you were riveted with our conversation…  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Okay, maybe not riveted, true, but I wouldn’t still be talking to you if I wasn’t interested.   </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> But hey, if you want to talk about other stuff from your richass life, I’m all ears, my friend.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick finishes his lunch but leaves his dish in the sink to clean up later. He rapidly relocates to his bedroom so he can plug in his phone, now at 17% battery. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> You give me too much credit. I bet your life is a thousand times more entertaining than mine.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I mean, I’m a junior in college so…. Not likely.  </em></p>
<p>Somehow, Pat ends up telling Jonny about more than one of his escapades, following Jonny’s lead in keeping things true and honest, but open enough that there aren't too many details of his life that could give away anything potentially compromising. </p>
<p>Jonny asks all the pertinent questions and he seems to be truly interested in knowing more about Pat, so Pat keeps answering and the conversation continues.</p>
<p>Patrick falls asleep and he wakes up to a few messages from Jonny. He replies, and although there was a forty minute period of nothingness in their chat, the conversation is picked back up like nothing happened at all. </p>
<p>For a couple hours, it’s Jonny who disappears without a word of warning. He leaves in the middle of a conversation about Patrick’s best and worst subjects during his time in college and comes back apologetically, explaining he had an urgent meeting he had to attend. </p>
<p>The conversation goes on and on and on. Patrick doesn't end it and, more importantly, neither does Jonny. </p>
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<p>Almost without Patrick even noticing, talking to Jonny becomes a routine so ingrained in his day-to-day life that it’s like it’s been part of it for years. </p>
<p>The day after their third conversation starts with Patrick sending Jonny a message about something they had talked about the day before. Jonny doesn’t answer him until hours later but they spend a full hour messaging back and forth that night before Jonny announces he’s going to bed. </p>
<p>The day after that, Jonny sends him the link to an article and Pat makes time to read it in between classes, sending Jonny his commentary on it. </p>
<p>And the next day, Patrick spends hours sending Jonny dozens upon dozens of links to memes that he doesn't understand, laughing hysterically every time Jonny searches for the meaning of one and still doesn't get it. </p>
<p>A week goes by like that and Patrick is still unsure what brought on the change. Something must have shifted for Jonny to so drastically turn from not wanting to have a conversation with anyone on the app, to him being willing to keep up such constant contact with Patrick. </p>
<p>Whatever the reason, Patrick accepts it and moves forward, settling comfortably in this newfound pattern of life: he checks his phone constantly now, something he never used to do before; his thoughts drift toward future topics of conversation he wants to bring up to Jonny; he does research on stuff Jony has barely mentioned to him before; he goes through his day wondering what things could be worth mentioning and what things could not. </p>
<p>It shouldn’t be surprising that, before long, Patrick ends up mentioning Jonny in a conversation with Alex and Dylan, therefore making things a thousand times more real. </p>
<p>“Back up, back up,” Alex interrupts as Patrick tries to continue on with the conversation without giving the comment too much importance. “This guy Jonny… Is he a sugar daddy dude?”</p>
<p>“He’s not a sugar daddy,” Pat denies, proud of the fact that he’s found a loophole in Alex’s comment.</p>
<p>Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly able to see through Patrick’s weak attempt. “You met him on the sugar daddy app,” he states with full conviction. </p>
<p>Patrick lowers his eyes and nods, even though Alex needs no confirmation. </p>
<p>Dylan makes a squeaky sound. “Wait, so you really are going to have a sugar daddy?”</p>
<p>“No!” Patrick exclaims outraged. “Look, yes, we’re talking on the stupid sugar daddy app but neither of us are there to really do that, you know?”</p>
<p>“And you’re just, what? Passing the time with this dude?” Alex asks, making it sound outlandish that that could be the case. </p>
<p>Patrick gets offended at Alex’s tone of voice. “Yes. Don’t make it sound so fucking weird. He’s a chill dude and we both need to feel like we didn’t fucking waste our money on the stupid app so it’s a win-win.”</p>
<p>“So basically we-” Alex points at himself, then at Patrick and lastly at Dylan. “-paid 30 bucks so you could meet this Jonny dude and use a messaging feature to talk to him. Great investment of our money.”</p>
<p>Pat rolls his eyes at Alex’s sarcastic comment but he’s relieved to note that there is no underlying resentment or bitterness in it. </p>
<p>“Well, I think it’s just a matter of time before you end up with this guy as your sugar daddy, Kaner,” Dylan adds, shrugging his shoulders as if what he’s saying is a given. </p>
<p>The comment prompts another eye roll from Patrick, who is able to finally steer the conversation away from that topic, at least for the day. </p>
<p>Having mentioned Jonny once to his best friends means that the man starts coming up a lot more in his chats with both Dylan and Alex, either because Pat casually names him without even being aware of how often he does it, or because Alex and Dylan demand updates about him and their relationship. </p>
<p>“There is no relationship!” Patrick has gotten tired of saying. </p>
<p>“Yet.” Patrick has gotten tired of hearing, most times coming from Dylan’s lips.</p>
<p>Patrick stands his ground time and time again, and he refuses to admit that the communication he maintains with Jonny is proof of any kind of budding relationship. </p>
<p>By this point in time, a couple of weeks after they started talking regularly, Patrick could be persuaded to admit that they’ve become friends. Pat has never put much weight into the concept of internet friends, but he understands a little better now. He understands the freedom associated with letting someone get to know you a little deeper with the added security of physical distance between them and you. He understands the comfort of having someone always in reach, always at the tip of your fingers, to support you, to motivate you, to just be there. </p>
<p>All of this doesn't mean anything beyond that, however. </p>
<p>No matter how much Dylan wants to think otherwise. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Tell me something that will motivate me to not drop out of college. QUICK! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>…………</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I said QUICK, Jonny! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> I’m drawing a blank! </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Too late! I’ve dropped out already! Let my future failure and my inability to lead a fulfilling life weigh on your conscience. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Funny that you think having a college degree will bring you success and fulfillment in this economy. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Fuck!!!!!!!!</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Also, learn not to sign up for so many 8AM classes. </em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Have you ever regretted moving so far away from home? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>I don’t know if regretted is the right word but I’ve definitely questioned my decision more than once. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> My entire life is now in Chicago and I’m lucky enough to be able to visit my family more than a few times a year. But I miss experiencing the more day-to-day stuff, you know? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Like, helping my mom with errands and going with my dad to doctor appointments. Grabbing a beer with my brother after a long day of work. Little stuff that can be taken for granted but shouldn’t.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Yeah, no, I completely get it.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>I’m really close to my sisters, even though they’re all younger than me and I hate that I’m missing so many milestones. But also like you said, the small things as well. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what I want to do after I graduate and stuff… </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Pat, you’re a junior. There’s no rush.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Your education is really important and the decision to move away must have brought you some great experiences. Whatever happens in the future, that will always have been true. </em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>So the tallest one is… Harry?</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Correct.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>And he’s your sisters’ favorite?</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Two of my sisters’ favorite. The middle one is all about Zayn. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Is that the Irish one?</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> No, Zayn is the one who left the group 😢 </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>The Irish one is Niall. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>I see, I see… And then there’s Louis, who of course is your favorite. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I see you’re paying attention!!!! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19</b> <b> <em>:</em> </b> <em> It’s not like you haven’t mentioned it like a thousand times or anything…  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>But it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s the shortest….</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em> I TOLD YOU MY HEIGHT IN CONFIDENCE! </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Anyway…. I know I’m missing one but for the life of me I can't remember his name.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>LMAO. It’s Liam. It’s okay, we love him but… He’s Liam. </em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>J</b> <b>.T.19: </b> <em> If you had to decide between paying for a streaming service like Netflix or a music service like Spotify, which would you choose? </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Ummmm, I don’t pay for a Netflix account and just use my roommate’s instead. And I’m still on my family’s Apple Music plan so….. I pay for neither…  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Okay, what if you *had* to choose. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I guess I’d go for the music service.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>It’s so easy to download shows and movies illegally, nowadays.</em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> (@ My FBI agent, please don’t arrest me, I’m just a poor college student.) </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Your… FBI agent? </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Never mind, Gramps. Sometimes I wonder if you’re truly 31 or actually 81.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> But why the Netflix vs Spotify debate? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> It’s just a business thing we’re contemplating. Can’t give out many details, for now. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Oh, so *now* you keep your corporate secrets! </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three weeks after Pat starts talking regularly to Jonny, on a random Friday night, Pat realizes he’s gone an entire day without sending or receiving any messages from Jonny. </p>
<p>The day had been hectic from beginning to end and Pat has only really had time to look at his phone now, already reading 10:37pm. </p>
<p>He had been woken up in the morning by Dylan’s high-pitched scream instead of his alarm. The boiler had finally decided to break down on them and it had chosen to do so while Dylan was rinsing his hair out in the shower. The boiler being broken meant Patrick hadn’t been able to take a shower before class, and he’d had to leave the apartment with his greasy hair under a beanie, even though the weather was too warm for it. </p>
<p>In the middle of his Empire, Law, and Global Justice lecture, Patrick had realized he had forgotten his wallet back at the apartment and he wouldn't have time to go get it. That had meant he’d had to go into work without eating lunch first. </p>
<p>Work had been terrible today, just as it had been for the full week Patrick had been doing it and just like he knows it’s going to continue being for the remaining 2 weeks of his contract. </p>
<p>So it isn't surprising at all that Pat had kind of forgotten about Jonny for the entire day, so preoccupied with the other million things in his life. What is shocking, truly, when Patrick takes time to think about it, is the fact that this has been the first time in a long time that Patrick hasn't talked to Jonny for 24 hours. </p>
<p>Pat has never had anything like this, <em> this </em> meaning friendship or relationship or whatever other word one could give it. He’s never had a person he’s stayed so insistently in touch with. He has his family, of course, and Patrick talks pretty regularly to them. But it can’t be denied that there is a certain amount of duty and responsibility involved in keeping in touch with his parents and sisters while living so far away. </p>
<p> Jonny is one of the aspects of Pat’s life where he feels freest and most himself. </p>
<p>There are no obligations keeping him attached to Jonny, just a desire to keep talking to him. He could drop Jonny out of his life without any difficulty, but every day that he doesn't do it is another day that proves he finds joy in their interactions. </p>
<p>Three weeks after Pat starts talking regularly to Jonny, on a random Friday night, Pat realizes his friendship -or relationship or whatever other word one could give it- with Jonny has become the best current thing in his life. </p>
<p>He mulls over this while lying down on his bed, lightly tapping his phone against his chin. </p>
<p>It was different to let his conversations with Jonny keep happening before realizing how important they had become to him but now, Patrick debates whether some distance would do him some good. </p>
<p>At the very beginning of their acquaintance, Jonny had been very clear with him about not wanting to start any kind of long-lasting connection on the app. Is that still the case for him? Does Jonny still talk to Pat to keep justifying his payment of the app? Or have things changed for him? Has <em> this </em>grown to mean as much for him as it has for Patrick?</p>
<p>Patrick hates the insecurities and doubts that one stupid missed conversation has brought him. </p>
<p>Time passes as Pat keeps going in circles in his brain, debating with himself the merits of ending his connection to Jonny over just creating a little space between them over letting things continue as they are. He parses the three possibilities over and over in his brain, dissecting them as if his entire life depends on this one decision. </p>
<p>He should be using this time to do something better for himself, like going to sleep so work will be somewhat tolerable tomorrow. But minutes keep passing and Patrick refuses to shut off his brain. </p>
<p>There’s only two minutes until midnight when Pat accidentally touches the side button of his phone, making the screen light up and bringing to his attention a new notification. Patrick’s iPhone automatically engages in Do Not Disturb mode everyday at 23:30pm so this notification must have come through after that. </p>
<p>Pat touches the Home button to light up the screen again so he can read the notification. </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>J.T. 19 has sent you a message.</em> </b>
</p>
<p>The <em> Dreamy </em> notification stares back at him for a few seconds until his screen darkens again.</p>
<p>In a single second, all of Patrick’s previous uncertainties, hypotheses, and musings erase from his mind. There’s no question about it anymore, no more wondering whether this is a good idea or a bad one. </p>
<p>It is what is is. </p>
<p>It might be unconventional, unpredictable, and even a little stupid, but Patrick’s well past the time of denying himself good things in his life. He enjoys talking to Jonny and any other concern arising from that is irrelevant at the moment. </p>
<p>Patrick quickly enters the Dreamy app to open up his chat with Jonny, his eyes quickly reading the recent unread message. It was sent at 11:49pm. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>God, today was the worst day. I had like no time to check my phone at all. </em></p>
<p>Pat types quickly and eagerly on his phone, willing the clock not to hit midnight yet. For once, the universe seems to be on his side and Patrick gets to send his message just before Friday ends and Saturday begins. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Tell me about it… Wanna vent? </em></p>
<p>The dots indicating that Jonny is typing appear on Patrick’s screen. Pat feels all his muscles relax against the mattress and he moves around to settle more comfortably, getting ready for his upcoming conversation with Jonny. </p>
<p>It’s been three weeks of regularly talking to Jonny and Pat is happy to say they haven’t missed a day yet.</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Yeah, it was hard having to cut off some people from my life after I came out.  </em></p>
<p><b> <em>J.T.19:</em> </b> <em> I felt guilty for years when my parents decided we would stop spending Thanksgiving and Christmas at my aunt’s house. I thought it was my fault that my mom lost her sister.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> It wasn't your fault! It was your aunt’s fault! And it just proves how much your parents support you. I bet your mom doesn’t even see it as a loss. Why would she want to be associated with someone who doesn't accept her child? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Yeah, guess you’re more intelligent than I am, it took me years to reach that same conclusion.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>It’s just easier to see it when you’re not involved. I don’t know how I would have reacted to something like that happening in my family. My parents are both only children and all my grandparents died when I was little. </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> But my parents and my sisters have always stood by my side.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88:</b> <em>Now my hometown… That’s another story entirely…</em>.</p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>Ah yes, the joy of small towns… </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> I haven’t really had a serious relationship. High school was full of hook ups with this dude who, to this day, I’m betting is still pretending to be straight as an arrow.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> And now I’m just so busy all the time and I don’t really feel like adding one more complicated thing to my life.  </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Relationships don’t have to be complicated, though.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Okay, sure. But let’s be real…  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> 99.9% of them end up going through at least one complicated phase. </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Fair enough.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Have you had any complicated/uncomplicated long relationships? </em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> My longest relationship was 3 years long, right after college. I broke up with him when I realized going to work made me happier than spending time with him.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> See? Told you: complicated.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>On May 20th, Patrick wakes up feeling excited, irritated, and tired all at once.</p>
<p>It’s his last day at his temporary job and Pat has been anticipating this moment since the first day he started at it. At the same time, the idea of having to go through the entire process of looking for a new job is dreadful. And the fact that he’ll be back to being unemployed once again is the worst part of it all. </p>
<p>He’s brushing his teeth after breakfast, rushing a little bit because he’s behind schedule, when his phone starts chiming, a Calendar reminder lighting up his screen. Pat never sets Calendar reminders for anything so the notification throws him off for a few seconds. He quickly recovers and taps on the screen so the alarm will stop. </p>
<p>The reminder reads “<em> UNSUBSCRIBE FROM STUPID SUGAR DADDY APP </em>” and Pat has to read it twice to try and understand what it means. And then it clicks. </p>
<p>When Pat first accidentally subscribed to <em> Dreamy, </em> he’d tried unsubscribing from it so he wouldn't get charged again when his two-month subscription ran out. The app, however, told him that he’d be allowed to unsubscribe only a week before his current subscription expired. </p>
<p>Patrick had been frustrated at the clear money-grabbing technique, but he’d immediately set a Calendar reminder for himself so he wouldn't forget to finally cancel the next charge. </p>
<p>The Calendar reminder that has just informed him that his two-month subscription to <em> Dreamy </em>  is soon coming to an end.</p>
<p>Patrick immediately goes to open the app, toothbrush forgotten inside his mouth, toothpaste running down his chin. It’s very likely that if he doesn’t go through the cancelation process now he’ll end up forgetting to do it, and he doesn't want to have to deal with this two months from now. </p>
<p>But when Pat clicks on the <em> Dreamy </em> icon on his phone screen, the app opens up on his chat with Jonny, the only feature on the app that Patrick has really used during the two months he’s had it. Or at least the only feature he’s been using consistently for the last month. </p>
<p>The sight of the chat gives him pause, and a thought suddenly forms in his head: unsubscribing from <em> Dreamy </em> means losing his only avenue of communication with Jonny. </p>
<p>It’s been over a month since Pat started talking to Jonny regularly, but all of their contact has happened exclusively through the app’s chat feature. </p>
<p>It’s been long enough now that Patrick doesn't doubt Jonny’s commitment to their friendship any more, and he’s confident in his own desire to keep it going, but the truth is, he has hesitated before with letting their communications leave the boundaries of the sugar daddy app in which they met. There are few things he and Jonny haven’t already discussed, but somehow giving Jonny his phone number is something Pat has struggled with. </p>
<p>It feels like the last step, the final barrier. It means completely blurring the lines between an internet connection that Pat never would have thought he’d engage in, and fitting their friendship into his real life. </p>
<p>Pat knows the idea is ridiculous, his friendship with Jonny is more than well established into his real life already. But there’s something about the confirmation of it that feels monumental even though it shouldn’t. </p>
<p>And there’s been, perhaps, some embarrassment and shyness involved in not taking the first step towards asking Jonny for his number or giving him his. Pat might have been hoping and anticipating Jonny being the one to initiate that conversation. </p>
<p>But alas, a month later and here he is, faced with the choice of finally stepping up or completely letting go. </p>
<p>The truth is, however, that there is no choice at all. Not if the choice is between a little discomfort and losing Jonny. </p>
<p>He unsubscribes from the app before leaving the apartment to head to work, not wanting to postpone it any longer, but the topic doesn't leave his mind for the whole day. </p>
<p>He goes through the motions at work, sighing in relief when his shift ends and he can finally leave the place without thinking of ever coming back. Jonny, by now well versed in Pat’s schedule just as much as Pat is aware of Jonny’s, doesn't message him until he’s done, but when his work day is officially over, the messages start pouring in. </p>
<p>Pat musters all of his patience and all of his restraint so he won’t message Jonny back. He doesn't even glance at the messages so he won’t be tempted to follow the conversation. </p>
<p>It’s so difficult, and Pat catches himself reaching for his phone instinctively more than once. </p>
<p>In the end, Dylan is the one who convinces Pat to drop the charade with a single comment and a well-meaning cuff to the back of his head. </p>
<p>“Just fucking text him, man,” Dylan says as he exists the kitchen, leaving Pat alone. </p>
<p>It’s the straightforward manner in which Dylan says it that drives Pat to action. Dylan says it like it’s a given, a clear path, a fated move. Like there’s no other possibility. It just is. </p>
<p>Pat doesn’t waste any time as he takes his phone out of his pants’ right front pocket. He opens his chat with Jonny and, bypassing Jonny’s previous messages, he starts typing and sending his messages without stopping to think twice before he sends them. </p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> Hey, it’s been a crazy day, sorry for not replying before.  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> So, I’ve got something to ask…  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b> <em> My subscription to the app is ending next week and I’m not renewing it, obviously hahaha. Don’t feel like paying for a bunch of dick pics when I could get them for free anywhere lmao…  </em></p>
<p><b>PattyK88: </b>   <em> But then we wouldn't be able to talk if we don’t give each other our numbers so like… Is that cool with you? </em> </p>
<p>Pat contemplates moving to his room to wait for Jonny’s answer but his legs won’t respond to his brain’s commands, so he stays seated. Through the kitchen window, Patrick hears indistinct voices, people going about with their lives as Pat waits anxiously for a response. </p>
<p>Pat’s phone is never set on vibrate so the only way to know if Jonny has responded to his message is by looking at his screen. In order not to be checking his screen every ten seconds, Pat sets a limit for himself. Two minutes. He’ll allow himself to check for a response every two minutes. </p>
<p>
  <em> One, two, three…  </em>
</p>
<p>Pat counts in his head, his right foot tapping rhythmically on the floor along with every second that passes. It’s a way to release all the pent-up tension that’s been building up inside him all day. Somehow, the trick works and he feels his body gradually relaxing. Maybe it’s the combination of the movement and the counting, like perhaps giving his mind something concrete to focus on is helping him stay more in the moment. </p>
<p>The first two minutes pass. Patrick checks his phone and no new notifications have arrived. He starts counting all over again. </p>
<p>
  <em> One, two, three…  </em>
</p>
<p>This time it’s his left foot keeping beat. Receiving no message has left him feeling unsettled again but before the first minute of his counting is even up, Pat has managed to clear his mind again and, soon, he doesn’t even realize he’s gone over the count of 120.</p>
<p>For a few seconds, Pat debates giving it a couple more minutes before checking again but he sticks to his original plan, grabbing his phone from where he left it face down on the table and turning it around. </p>
<p>Jonny has replied. Patrick’s heart kicks into overdrive. </p>
<p><b>J.T.19:</b> <em>For sure. Here is my number: XXX-XXX-XXXX</em></p>
<p><b>J.T.19: </b> <em> Congratulations on being able to escape this hellhole! </em></p>
<p>Pat laughs quietly at Jonny’s last message, warmth spreading throughout his chest at how obvious it is that Pat’s own way of texting has influenced Jonny’s own way of messaging in the past month. His fingers start almost instinctively typing a response until Pat comprehends the implications of the first message Jonny just sent. </p>
<p>Patrick now has Jonny’s phone number. </p>
<p>Patrick now has Jonny’s phone number, which means he no longer needs to send messages through the sugar daddy app that he accidentally signed up for while drunk. </p>
<p>Patrick copies Jonny’s number, opens a new contact and pastes it there, naming it simply “Jonny”. As soon as his phone has confirmed that the contact has been successfully saved, Patrick opens a brand new text conversation between them. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:33pm]:</b> <em>Hey, this is Pat! Let’s throw it back for no more Dreamy!</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:35pm]:</b> <em>Hi, Pat! Happy to be able to talk to you in a different setting.</em></p>
<p> <b>Jonny [9:35pm]: </b> <em> My Dreamy subscription hasn’t ended, though, so I’m not completely free yet.  </em></p>
<p>Pat rapidly makes some calculations in his head and realizes it makes sense. By the time Jonny first messaged Pat, he had already been using the app for at least a couple of weeks. </p>
<p>The thought hadn't occurred to Patrick before, but it suddenly invades his mind that just because he is willing to give up the app already -the only person that had been keeping him on it was now available to him without those old restrictions- it doesn’t mean that Jonny will want to do the same. </p>
<p>The idea shouldn’t upset Pat as much as it does, but a heavy weight settles in his stomach just thinking of Jonny still needing the app to maybe talk to two or three other guys just like Patrick. Texting doesn’t warrant exclusivity, and Pat would be stupid to think otherwise, but there’s always been something special about thinking of him and Jonny sharing a kinship. Two lost guys that ended up in a place not meant for them that fortunately found the other to share the experience with. </p>
<p>How would their relationship change if that wasn't the case? Would their conversations mean as much? Could Pat stand being just one more name in a list of so many others?</p>
<p>Pat has learned so much about Jonny and he’s let Jonny learn so much about him. </p>
<p>He knows about Jonny’s brother and how much Jonny regrets not being closer to him. He knows Jonny is big on clean eating and trying new alternative dietary plans and workout techniques. He’s discussed movies and music and even politics with Jonny. </p>
<p>Jonny has heard him complain about his classes dozens of times by now. He’s helped Pat figure out birthday presents for his sisters. Patrick has ranted at him about his hockey team and they’ve bonded over their love for the sport and the Blackhawks, even though their true loves will always be their hometown teams. </p>
<p>Special. It’s been special for Patrick and it would be a blow to the chest to find out it hasn’t meant the same for Jonny.</p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:37pm]:</b> <em>Okay, wow, it felt good to delete the app. </em></p>
<p>Patrick raises an eyebrow at Jonny’s most recent text, a flicker of hope sparking up inside him. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:37pm]: </b> <em> You deleted it already? What about when you have to unsubscribe? </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9.38pm]:</b> <em>I’ll download it again for that. I just couldn’t stand seeing it on my phone any longer. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:38pm]:</b> <em>I only really used it to talk to you so I don’t need it anymore. </em></p>
<p>Special. It’s been special for Patrick and it elates him to read that it -that <em> he’s </em>- been special for Jonny as well. </p>
<p>It’s the last push that Pat needs, the connection he felt towards the app completely severed now. In less than 30 seconds, <em> Dreamy </em> is deleted from Pat’s phone, out of sight and out of mind. </p>
<p>It does feel good, like Jonny said. Pat hadn’t realized how much guilt he’d still been carrying around for downloading it and paying for it when he had been at his lowest, even if Dylan and Alex had both been amazing and helped Pat with it. </p>
<p>The app had mainly served as a constant reminder of what Patrick’s subconscious mind had been willing to do. It hadn’t let Pat forget his precarious situation for even a second and, even after his talks with Jonny became regular and he had something positive to associate with it, Pat had greatly despised <em> Dreamy </em> for it. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:39pm]: </b> <em> So what now, huh? What new opportunities does this bring us?  </em></p>
<p>Getting a text notification from Jonny that doesn't come through <em> Dreamy </em> makes Pat feel joyous and light. </p>
<p>It makes him even happier to realize that Jonny’s behavior hasn't changed at all even outside of the app. He’s never been one to care about arbitrary social conventions like double texting, or never texting first, or waiting a specific amount of hours to reply to Pat’s messages. Jonny has always been real and Pat has liked it just like that. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:40pm]: </b> <em> We’re finally free of the horrors of that app, let’s make it count! </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [9:40pm]: </b> <em> You’re an idiot. There’s nothing different now. We were texting before and we are texting now. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:41pm]: </b> <em> That’s not true! Now we can send gifs! Look! </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:43pm]: </b> <em> *GIF sent* </em></p>
<p>Pat scoffs at the image of a pretty bendy guy dressed in a Canadian flag leotard dancing around. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:44pm]:</b> <em>1) Did you just send me a Canada GIF? 2) Did you just spend two entire minutes looking for said Canada GIF?</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:44pm]:</b> <em>Shut up. </em></p>
<p>Patrick bursts out laughing in the quiet of the kitchen. He remembers a time when this would have made him feel uncomfortable and self-conscious, somehow buying into the idea that Internet connections couldn't be important enough to induce such powerful emotions. Now he knows better. </p>
<p>He’s about to start typing a reply to Jonny’s last message when another text from Jonny arrives.</p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:45pm]: </b> <em> Anyway, that's not the only new thing we can do. We can send pictures too! </em></p>
<p>Pictures. The idea hadn't even occurred to Pat but it somehow occurred to Jonny pretty quickly. </p>
<p>Pictures. How does Patrick feel about sharing pictures?</p>
<p>Truly, Jonny could be talking about any kinds of pictures. The <em> Dreamy </em> app hadn't allowed them to share any images through their chat feature -only links to their private photo albums, links that most guys used to send their various dick pics- , but the only time Pat had really minded that was when he had wanted to insert memes into a conversation and he had had to resort to sending links to them instead. </p>
<p>But those are not the pictures that come to Pat’s mind at Jonny’s mention of photographs. Personal pictures, is what Pat thinks about. Pictures that show Jonny his face, who he is. Pictures that make him real to Jonny in the most vulnerable way. </p>
<p>To cover up his hesitancy and his nerves about Jonny’s comment, Pat makes a joke trying to deflect the topic. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:46pm]: </b> <em> I knew it! This was all a scheme to get me to send you nudes all along! All men are the same! I knew you’d have to be a catfish! </em></p>
<p>Jonny’s response to Pat’s attempt to derail the conversation proves, however, how Pat sometimes forgets how much Jonny has come to know him. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:48pm]:</b> <em>Hey, you know it was just a suggestion. I would never make you send anything that made you uncomfortable. If you don’t want to send pictures of your meals when you go out to eat and you don’t want me to share my actually very awesome sunset pics, we don’t have to. </em></p>
<p>In one short paragraph, Jonny has been able to acknowledge and calm most of Patrick’s nerves. He’s reassured and reminded Patrick of who he truly is. Not just any random guy on the internet that Pat would never in a million years trust, but one of the people Pat considers closest to him at the moment. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:49pm]: </b> <em> But if your concern still really is that I’m a catfish, I can prove to you that I’m not. Give me a sec.  And if you don’t want me to share a (completely safe) pic say it now. </em></p>
<p>Pat bites his lip deep in thought, his fingers twitching against his phone as he wonders if he should get them typing out a confirmation of him not wanting pictures to Jonny. </p>
<p>A simple message from Jonny comes, a succinct question mark, and Patrick makes a split-second decision then. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:53pm]: </b> <em> Send it. </em> </p>
<p>Immediately after the message Pat sends is marked as read, a picture is sent from Jonny’s side of the conversation. It doesn't load at first, the Wi-Fi spotty in the kitchen, but as soon as Pat connects his data, the picture downloads properly and Patrick’s heart stops. </p>
<p>Pat has to blink a few times to make sure his eyes are working properly and not playing a trick on him. Then, he shakes his head to make sure his brain is working properly and not playing a trick on him. When it appears as though there is no malfunction in any of his systems, Patrick turns to trying to deduce if it’s perhaps his phone that’s acting up. </p>
<p>Opening and closing the message app three times doesn't work and Pat even contemplates restarting his phone. He doesn’t do it simply because he receives a new message. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [9:57pm]:</b> <em>Pat?</em></p>
<p>So it appears like it’s real then. That’s the picture Jonny sent. </p>
<p><em> And what a picture, </em> is all that runs through Pat’s mind over and over and over again. </p>
<p>Thinking about it objectively, the picture isn’t actually that special, really. It’s just a selfie taken from not the most flattering angle, a slightly blurry background making it seem like the person in it is standing in a living room. The man in the picture, however, is what has had Patrick so lost for the last few minutes. Because the man… The man is absolutely gorgeous, one of the most handsome men Patrick has ever seen in his life. </p>
<p>And the man is holding a piece of paper with the words “Hi, Pat” written on it. </p>
<p>The man -because Pat isn’t ready to admit that this is Jonny- is smiling crookedly at the camera, like he’s feeling shy about taking the selfie. His skin looks tanner than Pat’s and it glows so much that it makes him look ethereal. He looks radiant. Handsome, happy, and heavenly. </p>
<p>Pat’s protective instinct is triggered again and his next message is one of avoidance once again. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:59pm]:</b> <em> You could have just photoshopped that, you know? How can I believe that is really you? I’m telling you: catfish! </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:00pm]: </b> <em> Pat, I’m serious when I say I want you to be completely comfortable. Tell me how I can prove I’m not a catfish to you and I’ll do it. Tell me to do a pose, or I’ll Facetime you or whatever you need.  </em></p>
<p>Jonny’s vehemence makes Patrick feel terrible for doubting him. During the entire course of their friendship, Jonny has done nothing to warrant Patrick doubting him, but Pat has been constantly on edge, ready for anything to go badly at any minute. That isn’t Jonny’s fault and Patrick doesn’t want him to think that. </p>
<p><b>Pat [10:02pm]: </b> <em> No need. I’m sorry for doubting you so much. I know you're not a catfish or trying to trick me into nudes or anything like that… </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:03pm]:</b> <em>You don’t have to apologize. It’s healthy to be wary of people on the internet. </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [10:03pm]:</b> <em> Yeah, but at this point you’re not just anyone.  </em></p>
<p>Sending that last message solidifies that very same idea in Pat’s brain. </p>
<p>This is Jonny he’s talking to. Not just some random guy he met on some sugar daddy app that went by the handle J.T.19. It’s <em> Jonny </em>. </p>
<p>Pat exits the Messages app and gets up from the table, suddenly a man on a mission. He walks hastily to his room, closing the door behind him with a loud thud. </p>
<p>It takes him less than a minute to achieve his goal and before he can overthink it, he reopens his text convo with Jonny and sends the selfie he just took. </p>
<p>It’s nearly identical to Jonny’s, just him holding up a piece of paper that says “Hi back, Jonny”. He doesn't look his best in the picture -his hair too untamed, his face betraying his tiredness- and normally Pat would be fretting about it, but not today. There is nothing he really could do about looking truly and pathetically average compared to Jonny.  Not even if he spent an entire day getting ready to take one measly selfie.</p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:05pm]:</b> <em>Wow, Pat… </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:05pm]:</b> <em>I truly did mean it when I said you didn’t have to send me anything. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:06pm]: </b> <em> But thank you so much. It’s nice to put a face to the name. It’s almost like we’re meeting all over again.  </em></p>
<p>Patrick smiles softly, finding that he likes the idea of meeting Jonny all over again, like they’re new people but not really. More like there’s more and more aspects of each other they keep uncovering and discovering. </p>
<p>Maybe they’ve been meeting each other for the first time every day. Maybe each time one of them has decided to share something the other didn't know for the first time, he’s been introducing himself as a brand new person, one more complex and dynamic than he was the day before. </p>
<p>Maybe there’s a beauty in deciding who you get to be every day, deciding what person the world will be meeting and getting to know. Maybe Pat can grow to love every person he presents to Jonny. </p>
<p>Today, Patrick is deciding to introduce the more confident and less insecure version of himself to Jonny. The one that accepts the good things in his life without looking for the catch all the time. The person who doesn't question why someone like Jonny would bother with someone like him. </p>
<p>If he gets to be a brand new person for Jonny today, he’s choosing to be the carefree, smiley, and excited guy he looks like in his picture. </p>
<p><b>Pat [10:07pm]:</b> <em>Nice to meet you again, Jonny. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:008pm]: </b> <em> Nice to meet you again too, Pat. </em></p>
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<p> </p>
<p>Having Jonny’s number changes nothing and yet it changes everything at the same time. </p>
<p>Pat still talks to him every day without fail, be it a scarce exchange of messages throughout the day or long conversations that last hours and hours. They keep the same rhythm they had going on before, and it’s almost like finally having seen each other’s faces hasn’t caused a shift in balance at all. </p>
<p>There are small things, however, little details that only someone who was looking very closely at their interactions would notice. Pat notices them all. </p>
<p>Jonny has taken to mentioning more freely places he’s at or that he likes going to. Before, Pat knew they lived in the same city in a vague way, just like he knows millions of other people live in Chicago like him. Now it is more tangible, more concrete.  </p>
<p>Jonny mentions a restaurant and Pat recognizes it because he’s walked past it more than once. Jonny rants to him about being stuck in traffic in a part of the city that Pat had been to just that same morning. Jonny sends him a picture of his cup of coffee and a pastry, and Pat can see that the logo on the cup is from a coffee shop that he adores. </p>
<p>And that’s another thing, one more small detail that has sneakily snuck into their routine. One more thing that other people wouldn't give much importance to but that Pat can’t stop thinking about.</p>
<p>The pictures. </p>
<p>Jonny has kept true to his promise and he’s never demanded Pat send a photo, not of himself, his surroundings, his food or anything at all. But Patrick has found himself sharing them willingly and happily, anyway. </p>
<p>He finds himself taking pictures of random dogs he sees on the street, just because he knows Jonny loves dogs, and despite the fact that he isn’t the biggest fan of them. He takes covert shots of the weird dude he shares a class with that always comes to lectures dressed up in some elaborate costume, hoping they will make Jonny laugh. Patrick also takes pictures of food, of his hockey practices with his beer league team, of his books and notes when he’s got to study for finals… </p>
<p>It’s addicting, in a way, opening up this window into his life for someone else to peek through it. It makes Patrick feel like he's never truly alone, like there’s someone always willing to hear from him, even if all he has to say is superfluous. </p>
<p>The most surprising part of it all is how natural it feels for Patrick to share pictures of himself with Jonny. </p>
<p>Pat’s never been a particularly insecure guy, but he’s also never been one of the confident, showy ones either. He’s shared teams and locker rooms with guys like that, guys that know their appeal and aren't embarrassed to show off. He’s seen guys take pictures in front of mirrors while shirtless, flexing and posing and turning this way and that. Patrick doesn’t think there’s necessarily something wrong with that but he’s never felt compelled to do it himself. </p>
<p>The extent of the pictures Patrick has usually appeared in throughout his life can be reduced to three categories: 1) pictures with his family/friends, 2) pictures his mom has made him pose for alone during his graduation or on other relevant occasions, and 3) official pictures for college, hockey, or government issued documents. </p>
<p>Nowadays, that list looks a little different. </p>
<p>Patrick takes pictures of himself when he’s just woken up, only his hair, forehead, and eyes visible, the rest of him buried underneath his comforter. He takes pictures as he does random stuff during the day, brushing his teeth, taking sips of coffee, biting into his favorite croissants from the bakery Jonny seems to love as well. He’s even made Alex and Dylan take pictures of him, making them both suspicious, seeing as how that’s something Pat had never done before.</p>
<p>It’s completely new, a little ridiculous, and all because of Jonny. But the reward is so sweet that Pat has not thought about stopping even once. </p>
<p>Jonny’s responses to Pat’s pictures are always so earnest and up-lifting. </p>
<p>Sometimes they’re short acknowledgements, a good morning text, a comment on how good his lunch looks. Other times, Jonny responds with so much joy that Pat swears a little bit of it gets transferred to him as well. Jonny talks about the dogs Pat sends him as if they’re the most important puppies in the world, or he makes Pat narrate his last hockey game in excessive detail so he can feel like he watched it. </p>
<p>The best replies are the ones that come in the form of Jonny’s own selfies or pictures featuring himself. </p>
<p>Pat hasn't been able to fully process Jonny yet. Every picture that he sends, every time Patrick gets to see his face, should serve to make Pat a little less susceptible to him, a little more used to Jonny’s everything. But it doesn't work like that. </p>
<p>Pat’s breath still catches every time Jonny smiles in a picture. He feels lightheaded when Jonny sends more relaxed shots, photos where he’s wearing short-sleeved t-shirts that show off his biceps. His mouth had gone dry at the one picture Jonny sent a few days before, a full body shot of him in a tux at some random fundraiser event his company was participating in.</p>
<p>There’s no denying the effect that learning how Jonny looks has had on Pat’s reactions to him. The same amount of trust and comfort remains between them, their conversations solidifying day by day, the way in which they fit with each other. </p>
<p>What's new is the way Patrick traces the contours of Jonny’s face with his eyes in every picture he receives. What's new is the way Patrick wonders more and more how it is possible that a guy like Jonny had needed a friend of his to sign him up for a sugar daddy app with the way he looks. </p>
<p>What’s new is the way Pat goes to sleep at night with Jonny’s face in his mind. What’s new is how he wakes up with it still not having left his brain. </p>
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<p>After his finals are done and Pat’s obligations in Chicago have all been taken care of, he heads to Buffalo, making good on the promise to his sisters to spend some time with them during the summer. </p>
<p>His dad tells him he can ask around for a job for Patrick but Pat refuses, citing that it would make more sense to go back to Chicago after a week or so to try and find a more stable job there that will last him through senior year. </p>
<p>Catching up in person and spending time with his sisters feels amazing. He takes Erica shopping for dorm room supplies one day, patiently answering every question she has about dorm life, college parties, majors, and so on. He uses his time with Jessica to get caught up on episodes of shows they’ve always watched together, staying up way too late and eating way too much junk food. He and Jackie go out on long walks every morning, the only two people in the family who really enjoy the outdoors. </p>
<p>It’s so relaxing to be back, so good to be able to let go and not worry so much about things for once. The safety that being around his mom provides him is unparalleled and he lets himself be babied a little, lets his mom fuss and take care of him in a way he’s probably too old for now. </p>
<p>Ten days is the longest Pat is comfortable with staying, Chicago calling him back louder than he would have expected. There are things he needs to do back there, but there’s also the fact that, after three years living in the Windy City, Pat can’t deny that he’s made his home there. </p>
<p>His last night at home is fun, chaotic, and bittersweet. His parents, sisters, and he have dinner together and then play board games until his parents announce they’re going to bed. He stays up with his sisters after that, and around 2 A.M. Erica runs to her room to grab a bottle of watermelon vodka that Pat and she refuse to let Jackie and Jess touch, even though Jess is only a year younger than Erica. </p>
<p>By the time Pat walks up to his room, he’s drunker than he’s been in months. He has to support himself on the wall as he takes the stairs one at a time, his sisters giggling behind him and distracting him. </p>
<p>It feels heavenly to throw himself down on his bed, even if he can’t really remember how exactly he made it from the hallway to his bedroom. His room is spinning around him and the glow-in-the-dark stars that he stuck on his ceiling when he was nine and had never gotten rid of are hypnotizing. </p>
<p>Patrick is tired, really tired, but this is the last night he’s spending in his childhood bedroom for a while and he wants to soak it all in. He always gets particularly maudlin when he has to leave Buffalo behind, even if the city itself doesn’t hold that much meaning to him. </p>
<p>This time around, the sadness and preemptive nostalgia are mixed with the knowledge of the terrible hangover Patrick will have in the morning. He tries to recall the last time he drank this much and he ends up realizing it must have been that night back in March when Alex, Dylan, and he had thought downloading a sugar daddy app would be a good idea. </p>
<p>Inevitably, thinking of that night and the app mean that Patrick’s thoughts land on Jonny. </p>
<p>He thinks of their conversations during the time he has been back in Buffalo, and how they’ve been more sporadic than usual but still so nice to rely on. He can’t help but think about all their previous conversations as well, his brain listing all the details he’s learned about Jonny, every single one of them treasured. </p>
<p>It’s Jonny’s image that last comes to Pat’s mind. It’s so familiar to Patrick now, Jonny’s face, a landscape that he has been gazing at for weeks and weeks, learning it perfectly, tracing it, and memorizing it.</p>
<p>If Pat had any other talents apart from hockey, he would have already tried to do justice to the beauty that is Jonny. He would have, perhaps, painted him on a canvas, a picture full of browns and pinks and blues to immortalize Jonny for centuries. Maybe he would have written him sonnets, verses upon verses centering around the shape of Jonny’s lips, or the brightness of his eyes, or the enticing look of his skin. </p>
<p>But Pat has zero talents apart from hockey so all he's been able to do for weeks when faced with photos of Jonny has been splutter, stutter, and squeak. He’s gotten lost more than once during his days in thoughts of Jonny’s hands or his broad shoulders. He’s wondered how much taller than him Jonny would be if they met in person and how different it would be to feel the heat of him, the last proof of him being a completely real person. </p>
<p>Patrick wouldn’t say alcohol is supposed to make anyone sharper, but he does think it’s thanks to his inebriated state that he comes to a realization. There is one more thing about Jonny that Pat hasn’t yet found out about. The last thing that he can discover through the waves and pulses of a telephone. </p>
<p>What does Jonny’s voice sound like? </p>
<p>Alcohol might have helped Pat catch on to that one last small element of Jonny that he’s been missing, but alcohol is definitely not helping him think clearly when he grabs his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and dials Jonny’s number for the first time ever. </p>
<p>It’s close to 4:30 in the morning but Pat isn’t aware of minutiae like that. All of his concerns lay in Jonny picking up the phone and getting rid of the uncertainty. There’s an obstacle between them, Patrick thinks with his eyes closed as the phone rings in his ear, and he needs to defeat it so nothing will stand in their way. </p>
<p>The rings in his ear stop abruptly, signaling that someone has picked up on the other end of the line. </p>
<p>For a few seconds there’s only silence. </p>
<p>“Pat?”</p>
<p>The voice is both deeper and lighter than Patrick had expected it to be. </p>
<p>“Pat? Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>There’s a hint of an accent that Pat can’t quite place both because he’s only heard a couple of words spoken by it and because he’s drunk. Then Patrick remembers that Jonny is from Winnipeg and it clicks for him. Yes, a Canadian accent. </p>
<p>“Was this a butt dial thing at three-thirty in the morning? Because if it was, I’m going to find a way to murder you.” </p>
<p>“Hi,” Patrick greets, Jonny’s previous sentence going unacknowledged. </p>
<p>Silence descends upon them again, the only noise coming from Jonny’s side of the conversation being his quiet breathing that Pat has to concentrate to hear. </p>
<p>“Hi,” Jonny replies, his voice nothing but a whisper. </p>
<p>“I wanted to hear your voice,” Patrick confesses, and he finally can admit that this is all definitely due to the alcohol in his veins. </p>
<p>“At three thirty in the morning?” Jonny inquires. </p>
<p>Pat winces and he closes his eyes tightly, like that will protect him from the shame.</p>
<p>“I didn’t think of that.” His words are slurred a bit, his tongue heavy in his mouth. </p>
<p>“Alcohol will do that to you,” Jonny jokes, confirming that Pat’s inebriated state is more than obvious. </p>
<p>“You’re the one who picked up,” Patrick counters. </p>
<p>Jonny clears his throat and a soft rustling sound can be heard through the line, like Jonny is moving around in bed, changing positions. </p>
<p>“Maybe I’ve been wanting to hear your voice too,” Jonny says. “Maybe for a while now.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s heart starts trying to escape his chest, its’ beat an erratic staccato. This call might have been completely impulsive but it’s turning out to be the best decision that Patrick has ever made while drunk. Perhaps it’s even better than any of the ones he’s ever made while completely sober. </p>
<p>“Why are you drunk, though?” Jonny asks. “Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>Pat shakes his head even though Jonny can’t see him. “It’s my last night in Buffalo. I’m going to miss my family.”</p>
<p>“You could stay longer,” Jonny points out. “Take your dad up on that offer so he’ll find you a summer job.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, no,” Pat says, feeling pleased that Jonny remembers a detail of something they’ve talked about before. “It’s just better if I try to find something in Chicago.” </p>
<p>“But you’re miserable looking for a job there, Pat,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>Patrick scoffs. “We can’t all be millionaires, Jonny. Looking for jobs and handling finances can be a stressful thing for some of us.”</p>
<p>Patrick feels a thousand times more clear-headed, suddenly. </p>
<p>This isn't the first time that this issue -money- has been a contention between them, but Pat feels guilty about his outburst in this instance. Patrick knows Jonny wasn’t born into outrageous wealth and that for most of his life, he did know what financial struggles were. It’s just difficult, sometimes, for Patrick not to feel ashamed and small. </p>
<p>Patrick can hear Jonny take a deep breath as if preparing to speak but Patrick talks again before Jonny can say anything. </p>
<p>“I just called to hear your voice,” Patrick repeats, changing the topic so the warm feeling that enveloped him at the beginning of the conversation will reappear. “I realized I had never heard it before.”</p>
<p>Jonny clicks his tongue, like he’s not too sure about changing the topic of conversation. He lets it go, however, following Pat’s lead. </p>
<p>“And?” Jonny asks. “Is it like you imagined?”</p>
<p><em> Is it?, </em> Patrick asks himself.</p>
<p>The honest answer is that it both is and isn’t what Patrick imagined. In his head, when Pat has read the messages Jonny sends him, the voice reading them has always been very heavy, almost reverential. It never sounded like a real voice, but Pat still has trouble some days coming to terms with Jonny being real. </p>
<p>Jonny’s true voice is more human than anything Pat could have come up with in his head. It has intonation and depth, and it’s penetrating, making way through Patrick’s ears and settling in the spaces between his ribs. </p>
<p>Jonny’s voice is just so very Jonny, and maybe because Pat believes he knows Jonny pretty well by now, he feels like he’s known what Jonny’s voice was like all along. If he had been made to pick between an array of voices, he likes to believe he’d have chosen Jonny’s voice confidently and correctly. </p>
<p>“It’s…” </p>
<p>Pat starts speaking but then stops, trying to find the words to correctly explain himself. </p>
<p>“It’s your voice,” he ends up settling on. </p>
<p>Jonny laughs quietly, his laugh a little raspy, maybe with sleep. </p>
<p>“It is my voice, yes,” Jonny teases. </p>
<p>Patrick isn’t sure if he’s hearing correctly or not but to him Jonny’s voice is lightly tinted with a shade of fondness. </p>
<p>“What about my voice?” Patrick wonders, curious now as to what Jonny’s been imagining. </p>
<p>Jonny hums and although he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, Pat senses it’s just because he’s deep in thought. </p>
<p>“It’s your voice,” Jonny echoes Pat’s previous words, and the response is so much more meaningful because of that. </p>
<p>Pat’s eyes feel heavy and so do his arms. He turns on his side, fitting his cellphone between his pillow and the side of his head, so he won’t have to hold it anymore.  He yawns loudly, exhaling and feeling his body release some of the tension it had been carrying. </p>
<p>“Someone is sleepy,” Jonny murmurs, sounding amused.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry for waking you up at 4 in the morning, Jonny,” Pat apologizes, rubbing his eyes with his left fist. </p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Jonny reassures him. “It was nice to talk to you.”</p>
<p>“Can we talk again tomorrow?” Patrick asks, fearing that this will just be a one-time thing and as soon as he falls asleep, he will have missed out on the opportunity to really appreciate it. </p>
<p>“For sure,” Jonny answers. “You can call me whenever you want.”</p>
<p>“You can call me whenever you want too.” Patrick’s words are almost unintelligible now, the alcohol and the need for sleep making them run and mix together. </p>
<p>Jonny seems to still understand him, though. “Okay, so then I will call you.”</p>
<p>“Can you talk to me until I fall asleep?” </p>
<p>He’s exposing himself so much, Patrick knows, letting himself be vulnerable in a way he has difficulty being in normal circumstances. It feels refreshing, however, even if it may just be the alcohol speaking. </p>
<p>He’s tired, both literally and figuratively. He’s tired and he’s going to sleep. He’s tired of not opening himself up to life. </p>
<p>“What do you want me to talk about?” Jonny says and Patrick finally -<em> finally </em>- relaxes completely, knowing Jonny will stay with him on the line forever. </p>
<p>“Anything.”</p>
<p>Patrick hears the sound of Jonny’s voice replying to his request but he can’t make out the words Jonny’s saying. He’s too far gone. Too lost in the lulls and sways of Jonny’s cadency and pitch.</p>
<p>Patrick falls asleep. </p>
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<p>Patrick wakes up the next morning remembering absolutely everything and with a truly killer headache. </p>
<p>The memory of Jonny’s voice accompanies him all through his flight back to Chicago and all the way home. Patrick isn't trying to consciously replay their phone conversation in his head but every time his mind wanders, he finds himself submerged in the memory. </p>
<p>He receives Jonny’s first message of the day just as he’s made it back to the apartment and it thrills him that, for the first time ever, he can hear it being read in Jonny’s voice now. He goes about his day -unpacking, doing laundry, remaking his bed with clean sheets- as he texts with Jonny back and forth. He’s also talking to Dylan and Alex -both back in their respective hometowns for a few days- about when they’ll be coming back. </p>
<p>When the day has ended and Pat has crawled into bed after a cold shower to fend off the lingering heat of the summer air, something feels off to him. There is this unfinished kind of sentiment eating him up, the sensation that something should have happened, that he missed a clue somehow. </p>
<p>And then, he receives a text from Jonny and things finally make sense once again. He wants to talk to Jonny, is the thing. Not text. Talk. </p>
<p>Pat’s thumb hovers over the call button for a minute or so, a conflict taking place inside him. Pride vs Desire. Propriety vs Necessity. </p>
<p>It’s the memory of Jonny’s voice when he told Pat he could call him anytime that finally does it for him. </p>
<p>He presses the call button and prays that he didn’t misunderstand the situation. </p>
<p>“Pat!” Jonny sounds out of breath, rushed. “I just made it home and I was about to call you.”</p>
<p>“You were?” Pat asks, his insides lighting up. </p>
<p>“Yes! I wanted to talk about your day,” Jonny explains and as he says that a door can be heard closing. </p>
<p>“Wait,” Pat interrupts, putting the pieces together. “Did you <em> literally </em> just walk through your door?” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jonny confirms. “It was a long day at work.”</p>
<p>“You— You can call me later, you know?” Patrick stutters, not really feeling like hanging up but knowing Jonny will want some time to wind down, change clothes, or decompress. “I didn’t mean to catch you in the middle of anything.”</p>
<p>“No, no, it’s fine,” Jonny rushes to say. “I just gotta get changed and make myself some dinner but, if— If you don’t mind keeping me company through all that, I’d like that.”</p>
<p>Pat feels the beginnings of a smile shaping his mouth and he makes no effort to hide it in the safety of his bedroom. </p>
<p>“I don’t mind,” Pat states sincerely. </p>
<p>And that’s how easily a new routine can be established. </p>
<p>It’s not an everyday thing always because, unfortunately, life does get busy for both of them as summer sets over Chicago and the rest of the Northern Hemisphere. They never go more than three or four days without speaking on the phone, however. When they can make it, they like to end their days glued to their phones, both of them already in bed, and trying to push sleep away in lieu of spending more time on the line together. </p>
<p>It’s something Pat never thought he’d enjoy, something that if he had been asked for his opinion about only a few months ago he would have deemed suffocating or unbearable. But then again, he didn’t know Jonny just a few months ago. </p>
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<p>“And then Sharpy got up and left the room!” Jonny exclaims, his story coming to a close. </p>
<p>“Just like that?” Pat asks.</p>
<p>“Just like that,” Jonny confirms and Patrick starts laughing uncontrollably, finding it hard to catch his breath. </p>
<p>“Fuck, he sounds like such an awesome dude,” Pat says when he’s regained control of himself. </p>
<p>“He’s a little shit,” Jonny corrects, but Patrick can detect the incredible amount of fondness hidden behind the words. </p>
<p>“How did you guys meet, anyway?” Pat wonders, trying to recall if Jonny has ever told him about it before. “I think you’ve only said you met in college.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jonny replies. “The first time we met… Well, this is another one of those long Sharpy stories.You sure you want to hear it?”</p>
<p>“Fuck yeah!”</p>
<p> </p>
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<p>“It’s something I’ll always think about, I guess,” Pat confesses. “If my circumstances had been different, would I have been able to make it? Everyone said I was really good, like NHL good, but c’mon, I was just a kid…” </p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s something that has followed me around for forever as well,” Jonny says. “It made it difficult for a while to follow hockey. I was a teenager full of resentment and I carried a lot of anger towards my family.” </p>
<p>“I get it,” Pat whispers, ashamed of how, even now, an adult in the midst of creating a good path in life, he still gets bouts of bitterness. </p>
<p>“But I love the sport too much,” Jonny says. “I wouldn't be able to really quit it.”</p>
<p>“I mean, if you haven’t already given up being a Jets fan then yeah, you’re in it forever,” Patrick jokes and he enjoys hearing Jonny stammer in indignation. </p>
<p>“Okay, then tell me: how are the Sabres doing?” Jonny counters and even though Pat threatens to hang up, he doesn’t.</p>
<p>“Best to settle on a safer topic and discuss the Hawks’ chances for next season,” Jonny proposes and then they’re off talking about hockey until 3 A.M.. </p>
<p> </p>
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<p>The silence is uncomfortable between them in a way it never really is when it comes to them. </p>
<p>Patrick wants to say something to break it -anything, really- but he’s afraid of making things worse. If he stays silent he won’t yell again. If he stays silent he won’t make Jonny yell back. It’s funny how being so well-matched means their fights are also amped up to the thousand. </p>
<p>“You can’t keep assuming every comment I make about your situation is me not understanding what you’re going through, Pat,” Jonny finally says, his voice sounding monotone, like he wants to be as detached as possible so things won’t escalate again. </p>
<p>“I know,” Pat recognizes. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to—“</p>
<p>“Yes, I do,” Pat interrupts. “I do have to apologize. I can’t keep being an asshole every time money is mentioned. It’s not your fault that our situations are different.”</p>
<p>“I don’t mean to make you feel bad about anything, and if I should stop mentioning anything specific, you’ve got to let me know,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>“There’s really nothing that you say that is bad, it’s just…” Pat tries to gather his thoughts and find the words to explain. “I can never put it out of my mind, you know? Money is all I worry about, all day, every day. So I just see everything through that fucking lens even if I don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“That’s completely normal,” Jonny reassures. “But you know everything I say is in good faith. I hate that you can never relax. I hate that you won’t let me help y—“</p>
<p>“No,” Patrick cuts Jonny off quickly. </p>
<p>“Pat…” Jonny sighs. “C’mon…” </p>
<p>“No,” Pat reiterates. “I can’t. I can’t let you do that. This is my shit, Jonny. I mean, hell, you don’t even know me.”</p>
<p>“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jonny argues. “I know you. You know me. What’s so wrong about wanting to help someone that’s important to me?” </p>
<p>“Nothing is wrong with that. It just shows how good of a person you are,” Pat says. “But I can’t. I can’t let you do that and that’s that.” </p>
<p>Jonny takes a deep breath as if preparing for a rebuttal but Patrick quickly speaks over him, referencing something Jonny had told him about his parent’s vacation the week before. </p>
<p>Jonny sounds pained at having to let the conversation go, but he answers Pat’s questions until the mood is once again restored to the happy and comfortable vibe Patrick wanted it at. </p>
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<p>“I just don’t understand why you keep refusing his help, dude. The man is loaded and he keeps offering. Just take him up on it,” Alex says matter-of-factly, making it sound easy and uncomplicated. </p>
<p>It is anything but easy and uncomplicated, however. </p>
<p>They’re out shopping, Alex and Patrick, on the hunt for a pair of jeans and some new t-shirts for Patrick that will fit him decently but that he’ll be able to afford. The thrift store they’re at is completely empty save them and the teenage girl behind the counter, who is paying them no mind as she flips through the pages of a novel. </p>
<p>Patrick moves away from Alex to go check out a promising rack of t-shirts, leaving Alex to sort through jeans on his own. </p>
<p>Truth is, Pat doesn’t feel like explaining -for what feels like the millionth time- why he keeps refusing Jonny’s help. Truth is, Pat isn’t sure he’d even be able to, at this point. </p>
<p>He doesn't want to explain it again for various reasons, but the main one is that he doesn't really understand it himself. </p>
<p>The first explanation that comes to Pat’s mind is always pride, and that’s the one he’s stuck with primarily. It both fits and it doesn’t. </p>
<p>Every time he thinks of letting Jonny help, an uncomfortable sensation starts in the pit of his stomach. He hates feeling dependent on someone, hates to think that he’ll be in debt after someone offers their help. He should be able to handle his own issues and not being able to do so just shows weakness. </p>
<p>Jonny would never demand anything of Patrick, though, and Pat knows this. Jonny’s help is always extended without attachments or small-letter clauses. It comes from a place of concern and care. And Jonny would definitely never think Pat weak for accepting the help he can provide. In fact, no one in Pat’s life would fault him for it. </p>
<p>But the self-consciousness is still there, and it makes Pat judge himself too harshly, makes things more convoluted than they probably need to be. </p>
<p>The second explanation that Pat has tried giving before has had to do with Jonny being practically a stranger. It has, quite obviously, failed to convince Jonny and even Alex and Dylan. </p>
<p>Pat understands because he knows that more than an explanation, that one is just an excuse. </p>
<p>Jonny isn’t a stranger and Pat knows that Jonny’s been hurt by Pat implying it before. If Jonny was a stranger, he wouldn’t know so much about Pat, wouldn’t be able to know just how in need of help Pat is, because Pat would never open up like that to a stranger. Jonny hasn’t been a stranger for the longest time and Pat has stopped pretending otherwise. </p>
<p>The one explanation Pat hasn’t shared with anyone, the one reason that can explain away all of Pat’s doubts and his vehement stubbornness over the issue, is plain <em> fear </em>. </p>
<p>Pat is afraid. Terrified, really. </p>
<p>He’s afraid of how his life is going and in his weakest moments, he’s wondered if maybe his failure to solve this all on his own is just proof of how unfit he is for everything. He’s afraid of how much like a failure he feels and he’s afraid that maybe Jonny will realize it too after he’s already lended him his aid. </p>
<p>And he is terribly, terribly afraid of how badly accepting Jonny’s help could damage their relationship. Everyone knows that mixing friendship and money never works and Pat can smell trouble from a thousand miles away. It could break them, could throw shade on the light that their friendship has become for Patrick. </p>
<p>Pat would much rather have Jonny’s friendship than be a little more comfortable. He values Jonny far too much to let them go to waste because their relationship started feeling like a transaction, a mere business deal. </p>
<p>“Kaner.”</p>
<p>Alex’s voice interrupts Pat’s contemplation. Pat turns away from the rack he had been standing in front of to look at Alex. He’s carrying two pairs of jeans, his arms extended, presenting them to Pat. </p>
<p>“I think these look good and I’m pretty sure they’re your size,” Alex says as Pat takes the jeans from him. </p>
<p>“Thanks, man,” Pat says genuinely. </p>
<p>“You should still try them on, just in case.” Alex points towards the fitting rooms over his shoulder with his thumb. </p>
<p>Pat nods and he turns around once again to look at the t-shirts. He grabs two of them at random, just to feel like he’s actually done a fruitful search, and heads to the fitting room with all the clothes in his arms. </p>
<p>He tries on the first pair of jeans but they don’t fit. They go past his calves but can’t make it past his thighs no matter how much he wiggles and pulls. Pat sighs and he takes them off, putting them off to the side so Alex can leave them where he found them later. </p>
<p>The second pair of jeans works better and Pat is able to button them up without too much effort. They’re tight across his upper legs and ass, a more fitted look than what Pat usually goes for. </p>
<p>He gives the t-shirts a try as well, trying them on without taking the jeans off. They’re nothing special really, just a red Chicago graphic tee and a plain baby blue one.</p>
<p>Pat isn’t really good at telling when something looks good or not on him. He’s always been a pretty basic guy, really: if the clothes fit, they’re comfortable, and not expensive he’ll go for them. He figures that having a second opinion can’t hurt, though, and Alex is just outside. He’s about to exit the fitting room to go look for him when his phone vibrates from the pocket of the pants he came in wearing. </p>
<p>Pat picks the pants up and takes out his phone from the right, front pocket. The locked screen shows a message from Jonny asking him how the shopping trip is going as Pat had told him during their phone conversation the night before that it was happening. </p>
<p>Pat bites his lip as an idea forms in his head. He eyes the mirror to his right, debating whether he wants to go through with it or not. In the end, he figures there’s no harm in taking the chance and he swipes his lock screen to open the Camera app so he’ll be able to ask for Jonny’s opinions on the clothes instead of Alex’s. </p>
<p>He takes about 10 shots until he’s content with one of the pictures, feeling awkward all the while. The picture is simple, just a shot of him standing in front of the mirror so his whole body will be visible as he holds his phone in front of his face. The angle isn't perfect but he figures it’s good enough and he sends it after taking a deep, steadying breath. </p>
<p><b>Pat [11:23am]:</b> <em>How does it look? Should I buy the t-shirt, the jeans, both or neither? </em></p>
<p>Pat only has to wait for a couple of minutes for Jonny’s response but he does so anxiously, shifting his weight from one foot to another, still in front of the mirror. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:25am]:</b> <em>I like the color of the t-shirt, it brings out the blue in your eyes. </em></p>
<p>Pat looks down at the blue t-shirt and then up at the mirror and he realizes Jonny is right. The color looks good on him. </p>
<p>The decision to buy it is instantaneous. </p>
<p><b><em>Jonny [11:25am]:</em></b> <em>The jeans… I can’t really tell how well they look… </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:26pm]: </b> <em> Yeah, the angle of the picture doesn’t really offer much. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:26pm]:</b> <em>Try again.</em></p>
<p>Pat does, planting himself differently in front of the mirror to try and capture his body from another angle. When he’s done taking the pictures, he sends them to Jonny again. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:28am]:</b> <em>God, you’re so bad at this, Pat. I can’t see how the jeans fit at all! </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:29am]:</b> <em>I don't know what you want me to do!</em></p>
<p>Pat rolls his eyes as he sends the message, regretting the decision to text Jonny about the clothes instead of getting Alex for a second opinion. Alex would have been quicker. He also would have been a less finicky audience.  </p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:29am]: </b> <em> Pose or something!  </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:29am]: </b> <em> I’m not a camgirl, Jonny! </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:30am]: </b> <em> Well then don’t ask me to help you choose jeans when I can’t even tell how they really look on your ass or thighs! </em></p>
<p>Pat’s eyebrows lift in surprise at the risqué message. It’s the first time Jonny has sent a text like this, so borderline flirting. He’s complimented Pat before on certain selfies and pictures, but his comments have always fallen more on the friendly side than the romantic or sensual one. </p>
<p>Pat feels a rush of joy at the unexpected but pleasant change of pace. </p>
<p>The third time, when he tries taking a good picture, he feels more confident, like Jonny’s simple acknowledgment of Pat’s body has given him a more clear purpose, like he’s been invigorated by Jonny’s possible desire to truly see him. </p>
<p>The image looks very different from all the previous ones. </p>
<p>In the new picture, Patrick is actually posing, his back to the mirror but his body turned slightly to the right to create a good angle. His hips are pushed back and his back is slightly arched to emphasize the roundness of his butt. Looking at the picture, Pat can already tell the jeans do look flattering on him but he wants the last word to be Jonny’s. </p>
<p>He wants Jonny’s approval. He needs Jonny to toe that line once again, the line between nothing and something, the line between what they are and what Pat has imagined they could be. </p>
<p>Patrick sends the picture. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:33am]:</b> <em>Oh</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:33am]: </b> <em> Wow </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:33am]: </b> <em> Definitely get them, Pat. </em></p>
<p>Pat isn’t satisfied with those vague messages so he pushes a little bit to get more out of Jonny. </p>
<p><b>Pat [11:34am]:</b> <em>You think I should? Really? Why?</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:34am]: </b> <em> C’mon, Pat, you know why… </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:35am]: </b> <em> Maybe I don’t. </em></p>
<p>Jonny’s response to that takes longer to come but Pat waits for it, hoping it will be worth it. </p>
<p>It’s definitely worth it when Pat receives it. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:38am]: </b> <em> God, Patrick, you’re absolutely gorgeous and you have to know that. No matter what you wear, you're going to look incredible. But those jeans… No one who sees you in those jeans is going to be able to resist looking at you for forever. I know I wouldn’t… </em></p>
<p>It’s ridiculous how fast Pat’s arousal spikes. He’s never felt like this before, so moved and excited by some simple words. Perhaps it’s the idea of Jonny on the other end of the line that has him reacting like this. </p>
<p>Jonny, gorgeous and amazing Jonny. Jonny, who’s texting Pat to let him know he thinks Pat is attractive. Jonny, who could be doing anything in the world he wanted. Jonny, who’s decided Pat is worth his time, who’s decided he likes Pat. Jonny, who seems to be attracted to him. </p>
<p>Pat feels astounded at his luck. </p>
<p><b>Pat [11:40am]: </b> <em> You’ve definitely convinced me. I can’t not buy them now. </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:41am]:</b> <em>Who knows, maybe in the future you’ll end up receiving more pictures of them… </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:41am]:</b> <em>You know I don’t expect you to send me pictures if you don’t feel comfortable, Pat.</em></p>
<p><b>Pat [11:42am]: </b> <em> Jonny, I know. </em></p>
<p><b>Patty [11:42am]: </b> <em> And I’m saying that maybe you’ll be receiving more pictures like that in the future.  </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:43am]:</b> <em>Oh…</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [11:43am]:</b> <em>Yes, please.</em></p>
<p>When Patrick makes it out of the fitting room, he can’t wipe the smile off of his face and his pants feel decidedly tighter around the crotch area. His insides are still dancing from all the texting with Jonny and the pleasant revelations that the shopping trip has brought. </p>
<p>Alex is waiting for him in the checkout area with his phone in his hands and looking unmistakably impatient. </p>
<p>“What took you so long, dude?” Alex asks as Pat is paying for the pair of jeans and the two t-shirts. </p>
<p>“Just had to make some decisions,” Pat answers as he hands the cashier his credit card. </p>
<p>“Was the trip worth it, at least?” Alex wonders and Pat’s smile grows even bigger at the question. </p>
<p>“More than worth it,” Pat answers, accepting the bag with his clothes from the teenage girl and thanking her. “I got everything I wanted and more.”</p>
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<p><br/><br/>It’s addictive to have Jonny’s attention, to hold his desire. </p>
<p>Pat finds himself constantly striving for more. More texts, more phone calls, more pictures, more compliments, more reassurances. Jonny doesn’t seem to find it annoying, on the contrary, he encourages it himself, and so Pat doesn’t stop. </p>
<p>He keeps texting Jonny when he wakes up, but now he tries to make it a little more daring every day. He takes selfies while still in bed and he lets the camera capture his upper chest, bare and a little sweaty. </p>
<p>He takes a picture of the local swimming pool that Dylan, Alex, and he go to one day, focusing the lens of his camera so his thighs will be visible in the lower corner of the image, his trunks raised high so Pat can show as much skin as possible. </p>
<p>He sends Jonny pictures of his outfits every day, even if he’s just wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt for the day. The important aspect of them is never really the clothes he chooses but how he displays them. It’s all about the hand that pushes his t-shit up so his abs will be the focus of the shot. It’s how some of his sweatpants ride low on his hips and allow the blond happy trail that leads to his dick to be seen.</p>
<p>Pat never knew there were so many ways to appear enticing in pictures but he’s rapidly learning. </p>
<p>Jonny’s responses are always a thing of beauty. </p>
<p>It’s like now that Patrick has shown his willingness to engage with him in this game of back-and-forth teasing, Jonny has lost all of his inhibitions. </p>
<p>He doesn’t hesitate before telling Patrick how hot he looks after Pat sends him a shirtless picture with his hand down his pants. He tells Patrick how crazy it drives him when Pat sends him pictures first thing in the morning with his hair all ruffled and uncombed. He sends Pat rows upon rows of fire emojis when he receives a shot taken over Pat’s shoulder when he’s lying down on his stomach in bed, his boxer-clad ass the main focus of the photo. </p>
<p>The best times are when Jonny responds in kind, and Patrick gets to obsess over pictures himself. </p>
<p>If Patrick is slowly getting better at the picture game, Jonny has already won the Olympic Gold Medal. </p>
<p>His pictures aren't just hot and provocative, they’re also artsy; perfectly posed, lighting always at its best, aesthetically pleasing backgrounds on display. It’s like Jonny was born to be in front of a camera and, at the same time, like he was born to be behind it as well. </p>
<p>Patrick has even wondered before how much truth there is behind the claim that Jonny’s wealth comes from owning a business, because he wouldn’t be surprised if Jonny admitted it actually is due to his porn star or camboy deal. </p>
<p>Patrick’s favorite pictures are the ones Jonny takes in his bed. There’s a sensuality to them that is unmatched by any other kind of photos, an intimacy that makes Patrick feel more like a participant and not a simple spectator. </p>
<p>Jonny also seems less inhibited when he’s lying in bed, more natural, more real and hence more in Pat’s league. Sometimes, if Pat zooms in enough, the creases left by Jonny’s pillows can be seen on his cheeks and he can even spot individual drops of sweat in Jonny’s clavicles or armpits. </p>
<p>The plane of Jonny’s chest looks so enticing against the white sheets of his massive bed, the tan on his skin more striking against the light color. </p>
<p>Pat also has a soft spot for the rare bathtub pictures that Jonny sometimes sends. Learning about Jonny’s love for indulgent baths had made Pat’s week when he had found out, but he had been even happier when the first image of Jonny’s body underwater, almost completely covered by bubbles, had arrived on his phone. </p>
<p>There are times when Jonny poses just so that his strong thighs are almost completely visible in the shot. Those are Pat’s favorite bath pictures and they have everything to do with his growing obsession with Jonny’s legs. </p>
<p>In those pictures, there’s always a cheeky hint of taking it further, of showing the last true hidden parts of themselves. Because through all the teasing pictures, through all the revealing photos, neither of them has taken it to the fullest extent. There’s parts of each other they haven’t yet seen, the most private parts. Parts that are left undiscovered. </p>
<p>Patrick longs to discover every part of Jonny. Patrick aches to learn everything that Jonny has to offer. And so, Pat ends up being the one to take the venturous step. </p>
<p>It’s hot outside, mind-numbingly hot. Hot enough that Pat can feel rivers of sweat coursing down his body even though the fan is set so the air will hit him directly where he lies sprawled out in bed. July has been breaking records left and right, and Pat would like it to end already. </p>
<p>His new job at a sports shop in downtown Chicago has been going well, and Pat finds himself actually looking forward to going some days just so he’ll feel the reprieve of air conditioning on his skin. </p>
<p>Today he finds himself despising the fact that it is his off day, when he should be feeling overjoyed about it. Both Alex and Dylan are working for the day and most of Pat’s other college friends are back home for the remaining part of the break. So basically, Pat is all alone, with no one to rope into actually paying to go to the local swimming pool. </p>
<p>His curtains are drawn to keep out the sun, and it’s so contrasting how the light coming in through them is casting his room in a hazy and relaxing glow. He’s suffering from the suffocating heat of the summer in his bones, but he can’t deny the beauty of a lazy summer afternoon. </p>
<p>Pat sits up in bed to reach the water bottle he left on his nightstand. He takes a long gulp of the fresh,cold water, licking his lips when he’s done to catch the drops that cling to them. He takes advantage of his position to also check his phone, placed facedown on his nightstand as it charges. </p>
<p>He’s got two messages from Jonny and Pat wastes no time checking them.</p>
<p>The first one is a picture of a massive pool, clear blue water looking enticing as it reflects the light from the sun. The pool is surrounded by tall palm trees, looking very natural despite it being very clearly a product of careful landscaping. </p>
<p>Jonny is on vacation with his parents at the moment, somewhere in the Bahamas if Patrick remembers their conversation about it correctly. </p>
<p>The second picture is of Jonny himself and Pat is more eager to open that one. It is clearly taken by someone else, perhaps Jonny’s mom, and it shows Jonny standing in the pool on the shallower side, the water only reaching Jonny’s hips. Jonny is smiling brightly and holding a colorful drink in his left hand, his right one pushing his hair back from his forehead. </p>
<p>The combination of Jonny looking so attractive and the paradisiac landscape behind him makes the photo idyllic, almost as if it was extracted right out of Patrick’s dreams. </p>
<p>Patrick keeps looking at the picture, unable to tear his eyes away. His gaze moves back and forth between Jonny’s face and Jonny’s chest, the two most visible parts of him. The apples of his cheeks are a little red, just like the bridge of his nose, so Patrick imagines it has to do with spending so much time in the sun. Jonny’s smile is one of the most potent aspects of the picture, so captivating and expressive. Patrick wonders briefly what the drink in Jonny’s hand is and if he would be able to taste it on Jonny’s lips. </p>
<p>Pat quickly moves on from that thought by focusing his eyes on Jonny’s chest instead. It glistens with water, Pat presumes, and it looks unfairly defined and cut. Jonny is 32 years old and he has one of the best bodies Pat has ever seen, a body almost worthy of a professional athlete, really. </p>
<p>Pat has never been so attracted to someone, so completely enraptured by the sight of a person through a tiny cell phone screen. </p>
<p>The thrall of lust starts showing itself throughout Patrick’s body. Increased heart rate. Quickening breath. Hardening dick. All due to the vision that Jonny presents, so magnetic, so exquisite. </p>
<p>Pat presses the heel of his hand against his crotch through his boxer briefs, reliving some of the tension building up inside him. His hips buck up against his hand and Patrick bites his lip as he tries to keep himself under control. </p>
<p>He has to close his eyes, guilt threatening to consume him. He doesn’t know how acceptable this is, how far he’s crossed the line of decency. It feels like there’s a difference between this and simply admiring the pictures Jonny has been sending him. Disrespectful isn't really the feeling but something more along the lines of betrayal. Like Jonny not being aware of what Pat is doing is the real problem. </p>
<p>But Patrick doesn't know how Jonny would react to the mere suggestion of Patrick wanting to come at the sight of his pictures. Would he be flattered? Would he be embarrassed? Would he be encouraging or dismissive?</p>
<p>The worry does nothing to lessen Pat’s arousal so Pat opts for leaving his phone on the nightstand once more and lying down once again. </p>
<p>He starts touching his body lightly, with just his fingertips, teasingly slow like he loves it. His skin is clammy with sweat but the air reaching him from the fan makes his nerve endings more sensitive to his touch. When he reaches his nipples, Pat takes time circling them both with his fingertips, anticipating what finally paying attention to them will feel like. </p>
<p>The first tug at his left nipple is electric, a live wire connecting it to his dick and making it twitch when Pat repeats the motion. The image of Jonny pops into Pat’s mind and he groans when he imagines Jonny biting at his nipple, trapping it between his teeth and pulling hard until Pat has to arch his back off the mattress. </p>
<p>One of Pat’s hands has moved under his briefs, providing skin to skin contact with his dick. Pat’s index finger and thumb form a ring around the base of his dick and Pat starts slowly moving it upwards. The contact isn’t enough but it’s exactly what Pat wants. </p>
<p>His hands start working in tandem, following a mutual rhythm that has Pat’s toes curling and his chest heaving. A tug at his right nipple, an upwards stroke of his cock. A pinch of his left nipple, a downwards stroke of his cock. </p>
<p>Pat is keyed up from just these touches so the speed of his movements instinctively starts increasing. He’s desperate, raw, and fragile, ready to burst open. For a moment loneliness devours him. His hands aren’t enough. He needs something else. He needs someone else. </p>
<p>He needs Jonny. </p>
<p>His phone suddenly starts vibrating on the nightstand. </p>
<p>It’s a reflex to stop everything he’s doing and reach for his cell. The world stops when Patrick sees the name displayed on the screen.</p>
<p><em> Jonny </em>. </p>
<p>Patrick has never ignored or rejected a call from Jonny before but this situation seems to require it. The guilt is back with a vengeance because Pat can’t deny that not looking at the picture didn’t make the situation any less insane. </p>
<p>He was just in the process of jerking off to Jonny and now the man is so casually calling him. Pat wants to die. </p>
<p>His brain, however, doesn’t seem completely on board with doing the rational and easy thing. He should be rejecting Jonny’s call, he should be getting up from bed and heading to the shower to douse himself in the coldest water imaginable. </p>
<p>Instead, Pat is pressing the green Accept button and putting his cell to his right ear. </p>
<p>“Hello?” Pat sounds out of breath and his voice sounds shaky and rough. He’s suddenly terrified because it’d be so easy to tell what he was just doing.</p>
<p>“You see my pictures and you don’t even tell me anything, Pat? What’s up with that, eh?” </p>
<p>Jonny’s voice reaches Pat’s ears and a fire alights inside him. Mixed in with his previous state of arousal, it makes for an explosive combination. </p>
<p>It feels like waking up after centuries of slumber, Pat just discovering what his body is for. No one has ever reached him like this, no one has been able to crack open his rib cage and touch his lungs so wholly, stealing the breath from him, killing him slowly with pleasure. </p>
<p>Patrick can feel precome spurting from the head of his cock and he moans wantonly, cursing when the upward movement of his hips just encounters air and not a hard surface in which to rock into. </p>
<p>He realizes his mistake too late. </p>
<p>“Pat?” Jonny asks after a beat of silence, his tone stating clearly that he already knows what’s going on. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”</p>
<p>Jonny is speaking teasingly and this confuses Pat. He must not have caught on completely to the implications of everything. </p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I saw you had just seen my pictures and I—” Jonny halts his words abruptly and Pat knows he’s finally realized. </p>
<p>“Oh,” Jonny exhales. </p>
<p>Pat bites down on his lower lip harshly because even that sound strikes something deep within him. There must be something really, really wrong with him. </p>
<p>“You were jerking off to my pictures,” Jonny states. </p>
<p>Pat wants the earth to swallow him whole so he won’t have to be a part of this conversation any longer. Why did he pick up the phone? Why didn’t he do the intelligent thing and just ignore it? Was there a part of him so desperate for Jonny’s attention that it saw the risk of the action and yet did it anyway? Is he really that deep in?</p>
<p>He knows the answer to all those questions but he prefers to pretend that he doesn’t. </p>
<p>“Pat, please, I—” Jonny chokes on his words, sounding desperate. “I need you to tell me if I’m reading this right. I need you to tell me. Please, Patrick.” </p>
<p>
  <em> Patrick.  </em>
</p>
<p>Just his name. Pure, simple. Unadorned. His name. And Pat has his own <em> oh </em>moment. </p>
<p>“I was jerking off thinking about you, Jonny,” Pat confesses, and it’s both easier and harder than he could have imagined it to be. </p>
<p>Jonny groans on the other end of the line and the world bursts into bright colors. Everything is real now and Pat feels truly alive. His heart, his sweat, his breathing, his blinks. All of it for Jonny. </p>
<p>“That’s the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Jonny says, his voice an octave lower now. </p>
<p>Pat throws himself back onto the mattress, his body landing softly, leaving him lain parallel to the headboard. The hand that isn't holding his phone starts making its way towards his lower body but Pat stops the movement. </p>
<p>“Jonny, can—” Pat stammers, his free hand holding tightly onto the sheets. “Can I—”</p>
<p>“What?” Jonny asks,  his breathing already sounding labored. “You can ask for anything, Pat, always.”</p>
<p>“Can I touch myself?” Pat blurts out as quickly as he can as to not lose the nerve. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Jonny says, and it sounds more like an order. </p>
<p>Pat complies and, this time, he pulls down his briefs to free his dick. He grabs his cock firmly in his fist, applying more pressure than the teasing touches he had been using before. </p>
<p>The head of his cock is leaking precome steadily, coating Pat’s fingers in the sticky mess and providing him with some lubrication. He could reach for the lube he keeps in the nightstand drawer but the slight friction is keeping his head clearer and allowing him to not embarrass himself by coming already. </p>
<p>Jonny’s breaths and low grunts are the only things Pat can hear apart from the sound of his hand traveling up and down his dick. The mixture of all the sounds is heady. </p>
<p>“Are you touching yourself too?” Pat asks, even though he pretty much knows the answer already. He just needs Jonny to confirm it, needs the tangible proof that he has an effect on Jonny at least somewhat similar to the one Jonny has on him. </p>
<p>“Fuck yes,” Jonny answers back. “I’ve never been so hard in my life.”</p>
<p>Pat’s hand tightens around his dick, rhythm faltering at Jonny’s honest words. </p>
<p>“I keep imagining you here. What if it was your hand instead of my hand?” Jonny comments. </p>
<p>“My mouth,” Pat retorts, letting go of his dick for a second to squeeze his balls a couple of times. </p>
<p>“What?” Jonny sounds distracted, already very far gone, surrendered completely to his pleasure. </p>
<p>“If I was there, you’d have my mouth around you,” Pat clarifies, picturing it in his mind. </p>
<p>He’d go slow at first, getting used to the taste of Jonny, learning all of his veins, pressing his tongue flat against them and then pulling off to lick the head of Jonny’s cock with just the tip of his tongue. He’d speed up the tempo, then. Jonny would writhe under him, holding tightly onto Patrick’s hair and finally, tired of the wait, he’d push Pat’s head down until the head of his dick was pushed far into Pat’s throat. </p>
<p>Patrick narrates all of this out loud, the rush of hearing Jonny curse and pant giving him the courage he needs. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Patrick, fuck,” Jonny moans. “I’m so fucking close. I’d kill to feel your mouth. Such a pretty mouth.”</p>
<p>Patrick comes like that, with his phone pressed tight against his ear, his hand stroking his dick rapidly, and Jonny’s voice complimenting him from so far away. </p>
<p>“I wonder what you taste like,” Pat muses out loud, still lost in the daydream they had been creating, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy, trying to recuperate from his orgasm. </p>
<p>Jonny makes the most guttural sound, letting Pat know that he has just come as well. Patrick feels his dick twitch against his thigh at the sound even though he just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life. It feels powerful to know that <em> he </em>was the reason for Jonny’s pleasure. </p>
<p>They stay on the line in silence for a few minutes, their breathing synchronizing after a while. </p>
<p>There’s no need for words, no need for explanations. Everything has connected perfectly between them. This was the last piece of the puzzle. There was always something more between them, but they had to let it grow. It had to strengthen and form and take clear shape so it could withstand the pressure. </p>
<p>Patrick thinks the wait was worth it. </p>
<p>“I hope this can happen again.” Jonny breaks the silence. “Many, many times.”</p>
<p>“I mean,” Pat says, wiping his hand on the sheets to clean off his come. “I haven’t seen your dick yet, Jonny. I’m hoping this <em> and </em> other things will happen.”</p>
<p>Jonny is silent on the other end of the line, so silent that Pat actually moves his phone away from his ear to look at the screen and check if the call is still connected. It is. </p>
<p>“How hadn’t I realized that I really don’t know what your dick looks like?” Jonny wonders finally. “I know what you sound like when you come but I don’t know what your dick looks like.”</p>
<p>Patrick bursts out laughing, his body shaking with the force of his amusement. </p>
<p>“I’m serious, Pat!” Jonny screeches and Pat can’t believe this is the same guy that made him see stars simply by pronouncing his name. “I had to see all those horrifying dicks while using <em> Dreamy </em>but I have never seen yours!”</p>
<p>Pat continues laughing as Jonny keeps babbling indignantly in his ear. He feels so light, so content. Part of it has to do with the orgasm, he knows. But it mostly is all about Jonny, really. </p>
<p>Nowadays, most everything is about Jonny. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Jonny [1:22am]: </b> <em> Fuck, Pat, it’s so pretty. I should have known… </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [1:22am]: </b> <em> I should have known your dick would be just as pretty as you are.  </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [1:23am]:</b> <em>I’m so fucking hard, Jonny. I need to see you please. Please. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [1:24am]: </b> <em> Do you want to FaceTime? I’d love to see you like that. </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [1:24am]:</b> <em>YES!</em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phone sex with Jonny and video-call sex with Jonny are two completely different and equally thrilling experiences, Patrick soon learns. </p>
<p>Phone sex means he gets to memorize the hitch of Jonny’s breath when he’s close to coming. Phone sex means Patrick can close his eyes and focus solely on Jonny’s voice telling him how good he’s doing, how much Jonny wants him, he gets to lose himself in Jonny’s words as Jonny describes every single thing he imagines doing to Pat’s body. </p>
<p>Video-call sex means Pat can gaze longingly at Jonny’s dick as it thickens and reddens with each stroke of Jonny’s own hand. Video-call sex means he can watch as Jonny desperately watches him back, Jonny’s eyes never seeming to know where to focus, roaming Pat’s entire body and fueling flames inside every single cell of his being. </p>
<p>Patrick can’t pick a favorite between them, but there’s no problem in that, because Jonny seems just as hooked on both as Patrick is. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Patrick’s computer breaks two weeks before summer vacation ends and classes start. </p>
<p>It’s a shitty laptop, one that was good when Pat’s parents splurged on it when he was still in high school but is now too old and rusty. </p>
<p>He's used it and overused it ever since, making sure to take care of it as if it was his most important possession, because it truly was. Electronics are electronics, though, and they tend to give up on you when you least expect it and least need them to. </p>
<p>Pat handles it pretty well in the beginning, or so he thinks. When he goes to turn it on and it won't no matter what he tries, he stays calm. When the guy at the repair shop tells him there is no repairing it and he’ll need to buy a new one, he takes a deep breath. When he realizes that no matter how much he crunches the number he won’t be able to afford a new one, he bites his lip to stop a whimper from escaping his mouth. </p>
<p>He tells no one at first, not even Alex or Dylan. He types and deletes more than half a dozen texts to send Jonny. It’s in the back of his mind during a conversation with his mom but he stays silent on the topic. </p>
<p>The last straw comes in the form of a panicked call from his mom at 6AM on a Wednesday morning.  She’s crying and blubbering and Patrick has trouble understanding her properly until she slows down and takes a few steadying breaths. She tells him they’ve had to rush Jackie to the hospital because she was feeling pain in her stomach, couldn’t stop vomiting and passed out on her way from the bathroom to her bed. His mom has to hang up on him so she can speak to the doctor and by the time Pat receives the news that Jackie will have to have surgery to remove her appendix he’s already in hysterics. </p>
<p>He’s holding so much inside -good, bad, everything in-between- that it’s threatening to spill over. Pat feels alone and scared and tired. He wants someone to tell him everything’s going to be okay, even if it’s a lie, but he knows he can’t call his mom now, because Jackie needs her more at the moment. </p>
<p>Pat’s phone chimes from where it’s placed on top of his pillow, right next to his head, and the sound startles him, not used to it ever having the silent mode turned off. He expects an update from his mom, or maybe one of his sisters, but he finds a good morning text from Jonny instead. </p>
<p>Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Pat has unlocked his phone and dialed Jonny’s number while he’s still laid down in bed. There’s no hesitation in the action, there’s only comfort in knowing Jonny will answer and he’ll want to help Patrick. It’s liberating to feel like he can rely on someone else to lessen the hurt. </p>
<p>“Hey, Pat,” Jonny greets, his voice soft, a calming balm that's soothing all of Patrick’s burns. “Good morning.”</p>
<p>Patrick starts to cry. </p>
<p>His sobs are loud, tremulous sounds that expose the shaky foundations of his being. It’s difficult to breathe through his tears and hiccups, especially so in his laid down position. </p>
<p>The issue isn't sadness, really, because Pat doesn't feel sad. He feels frustrated and powerless, and he thinks perhaps that might be the worst part of it all. Sadness he could maybe handle, sadness he could understand. He doesn’t know what to do with all the anxiety, though, or the hopelessness, or the resentment. He feels useless. Useless and betrayed, and he doesn't even know by whom. </p>
<p>“Pat, hey, hey,” Jonny coos in his ear, and Pat feels both comforted because Jonny’s there and despaired because Jonny isn’t <em> there </em>.</p>
<p>Jonny keeps his voice barely above a whisper for a few minutes, speaking words of comfort or sometimes just humming as Pat slowly starts to calm down. </p>
<p>Crying has served as some sort of cleanse, because Pat feels brand new by the time his eyes have dried and his breath has normalized again. Jonny waits patiently on the other end of the phone line, and even when Pat knows Jonny must have realized Pat is doing better now he hasn't pushed Patrick to speak yet. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Pat speaks for the first time in the entire call. </p>
<p>Jonny’s voice is full of conviction and seriousness when he tells Pat, “You’ve got nothing to thank me for, Pat. Absolutely nothing. I’m just… I’m glad you called me so I could help. If I did help…”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” Pat reassures. “You did.”</p>
<p>“Then that’s what matters most,” Jonny says. “Apart from you being okay. Pat, I….”</p>
<p>Jonny pauses and Pat knows why. He ponders about it for a few seconds, trying to gauge how talking about it will make him feel. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.” Jonny’s voice interrupts Pat’s considerations. “But I think it could be good for you.”</p>
<p>It’s the reminder of Pat’s original reason for calling Jonny that convinces him that Jonny’s actually right. Jonny has shown him time and time again that he wants to know every part of Pat, even the ones that Pat has always gone out of his way to keep hidden away. The one thing in Pat’s life right now that feels steady is Jonny: his presence, his way of caring for Patrick, opening up to him, learning him in a way Pat has never learnt anything else… </p>
<p>He’s considered Jonny his rock for months now. The thought of him has calmed him, made him happy and kept him going on even his most difficult days. So maybe it’s time he truly lets go ofthe last of inhibitions and invites Jonny in. Pat’s mind isn't the most charming or accommodating of places but he has a feeling Jonny won’t mind having to help clean it up during his stay. </p>
<p>So Patrick talks. He talks, talks and talks. He starts by telling Jonny about his mom’s call and Jackie’s appendicitis, the detonating for his breakdown. He continues by talking about his computer and how stressed out he is because his senior year is starting in only a little over a week and there are so many things he has yet to figure out. </p>
<p>The doors have opened and Pat is adamant to keep them open until every single uninvited guest and every single broken piece of furniture have left the place. </p>
<p>He talks, talks and talks. Jonny makes encouraging noises as Pat speaks about his guilt for not living closer to his family when situations like this happen. Pat then goes on to talk about all his worries for what’s to come after he graduates next year, his unease over the uncertainty of it all. </p>
<p>Some of these are topics Jonny and Pat have touched upon before, but Patrick has never allowed himself to be as candid and honest about them as he’s being now.  He admits to things he hasn't even wanted to admit to himself before and, through it all, he doesn’t doubt even once that Jonny is listening attentively even though he’s not speaking. </p>
<p>By the time he’s finished, his mind isn't yet a perfectly livable space but it’s on its way to become a cozy and comforting location. </p>
<p>“I don’t really know—” Jonny interrupts himself to clear his throat. “I don’t really know what to say. I guess it’s my turn to say thank you. For trusting me with all this, I mean.”</p>
<p>“And I guess it’s my turn to say that you don’t have to thank me for anything,” Pat teases, and then scoffs. “Why would you thank me for unloading all this crap on you?”</p>
<p>“I know how hard talking about it must have been,” Jonny points out. “It’s special that you decided to do it with me.”</p>
<p>Pat’s at a loss for words and he bites his lip as he closes his eyes. The earnest way Jonny has of caring for him and always letting him know about it is always overwhelming but more so when he already feels peeled raw. </p>
<p>“Well,” Patrick murmurs, already blushing despite not having made the confession yet. “You’re pretty special.”</p>
<p>Jonny chuckles softly and Patrick lets himself be carried away in the current of the sound. Jonny’s next words have a more solemn tone, however. </p>
<p>“Pat… I know we’ve tried talking about this before and you haven’t wanted to, but… Let me help you.”</p>
<p>“Jonny—” Pat begins to say, but Jonny doesn't let him continue. </p>
<p>“Just hear me out, please,” Jonny begs, his voice bordering on desperate, and that’s what gives Pat pause. “You’ve told me before some of your reasons for refusing my help and I respect them. Now let me tell you why I think you should accept my help.”</p>
<p>Patrick sighs, his eyes focused on his plain white ceiling, his mind racing over thousands of thoughts and feelings. </p>
<p>“I promise that if you say no by the end of this conversation, I will never bring the topic up again. But just let me talk first,” Jonny urges. </p>
<p>One more sigh escapes from Patrick’s lips, this one more resigned. </p>
<p>“Okay,” he concedes, and he closes his eyes again, preparing himself for Jonny’s words. </p>
<p>“First off,” Jonny begins. “All of the reasons you might have in your brain about how you don't want to take advantage of me, or how it isn’t fair on me, or that I might end up regretting it… Forget them all. Every single one of them. Forget them.”</p>
<p>Pat licks his lips and swallows. </p>
<p>“I know what I’m offering and I wouldn't do it if I wasn't completely sure about it. If I wasn’t completely sure about <em> you </em>,” Jonny explains. “I know this is going to sound entitled and privileged but… It’s just money, Pat. At least for me. If I buy you a computer I’m literally not going to feel a thing but I know how useful it will be for you.”</p>
<p>Pat turns his head to the right, his gaze fixing itself on his desk where his broken laptop rests. </p>
<p>“And most importantly… I know you probably won’t believe this but, me offering this? It’s selfish in a way,” Jonny says. “Pat, you don’t know how much my heart broke when you first started crying. I felt helpless, like I couldn’t do anything but just listen to you. There’s not much I can offer: I’m not the best with words, I don’t know if I can offer you real long-term solutions… But I can offer you this, I can offer you what I have.”</p>
<p>“Money?” Patrick questions. </p>
<p>Jonny laughs ruefully. “Yes, Pat, money. I have a lot of money. You’ve known that since the beginning. I want to help you in any way I can, not so you’ll owe me later on or to make you feel like you can’t do things on your own, but because I care about you. I want to make your life just a little bit easier.” </p>
<p>“I feel like if I let you do that I’ll be, I don’t know, like, I’ll be cheating my way through life, you know?” Patrick tries to explain, knowing his words don't make the most sense. </p>
<p>“Do you think I’m cheating my way through life because I’ve got money?” Jonny asks. </p>
<p>“No!” Patrick exclaims, sitting up in his bed in frustration. “But it’s not the same, that money is yours, you earned it.”</p>
<p>“And this is what I want to do with it. Help you.” Jonny remains calm even through Pat’s agitation. </p>
<p>“I shouldn't have to rely on you! I should be able to make it on my own!” Patrick says, realizing by the end of his sentences that he’s nearly shouting. </p>
<p>“Who says you won’t?” Jonny questions, and Pat thinks he can now detect some impatience in his voice, or perhaps it’s exasperation, like he’s desperate for Patrick to understand. “Accepting help now doesn’t mean you’re failing at doing well for yourself. I’ll respect if you still don’t want me to help but Pat… I can’t magically make Jackie not have appendicitis now, I can’t make senior year easier for you, I can’t tell you what your job prospects will be like in a year… I can buy you a computer, though. That’s how I can help.”</p>
<p>Jonny takes a deep breath before his next words and he sounds chocked up. “And I want to help. I want to help you so badly.”</p>
<p>Patrick feels his eyes well up with tears again, and he remembers a time when he never used to cry, when the closest thing to tearing up he did was while watching <em> Up! </em> with his sisters at the movies.</p>
<p>“You have a right to say no, and I understand some of the reasons why you would. But I think there’s a difference between wanting to prove that you can handle things on your own and killing yourself in the process. I care too much about you to leave you alone in this,” Jonny concludes. </p>
<p>The silence is deafening after Jonny stops talking. </p>
<p>Patrick feels a lone tear make its way down his left cheek and he wipes it away with his left hand, his right hand still tightly gripping his cell phone. </p>
<p>
  <em> I care too much about you to leave you alone in this. </em>
</p>
<p>The idea still makes him uncomfortable, and he thinks there’s some things that Jonny is oversimplifying. How can he be so sure he won't regret lending Pat his help? How can he place so much of his faith in Patrick when Patrick doesn't even know if he’s deserving of it?</p>
<p>
  <em> I care too much about you to leave you alone in this. </em>
</p>
<p>Patrick doesn't have much faith in himself but he’s grown to have all the faith in the world in Jonny. So maybe, if Pat has so much trust in him, he needs to start giving himself a little credit, just like Jonny does. </p>
<p>Maybe he can learn to accept help and maybe he can still work towards feeling like he deserves it. Maybe if Jonny can be a little selfish by asking Patrick to let him help, Pat can be a little selfish by allowing him to do so. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Pat murmurs, his voice hesitant and low. </p>
<p>Jonny still hears him. “Okay?” he asks for confirmation, his voice full of hope. </p>
<p>“I’m not saying I’m giving up on doing things on my own,” Pat clarifies. “But I guess you—I— I do need a new computer and I guess you can help me buy one.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Jonny breathes. There’s so much gratitude in those two words even though it’s Pat who should be saying them. “Thank you, Pat. I’m so happy I can help.”</p>
<p>“No,” Pat corrects. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Jonny laughs, and it’s such a joyous and carefree sound compared to all the concern Jonny’s voice dripped before. It makes some of Pat’s worries get swept away in it. </p>
<p>“I’ll be buying it today so you’ll receive it as quickly as possibly,” Jonny says. “And I’m going to need your address so it can be sent directly to you.”</p>
<p>Patrick blinks, cracks the knuckles in his left hand, transfers his phone to it so he can crack the knuckles of his right one, and takes the final plunge. </p>
<p>“I’ll text it to you.”</p>
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<p> </p>
<p>Pat receives an Apple package on Friday morning, less than 48 hours after he accepts Jonny’s help. </p>
<p>He takes it into his room carrying it carefully in both hands and not taking his eyes off of it for even a millisecond. He puts it down on his bed and he opens the box up slowly, almost reverently. </p>
<p>Pat isn't the most knowledgeable on Apple products but he knows enough to understand that this is a really good laptop, better than anything Pat’s ever had. Definitely a lot better than what he would have been able to afford at the moment on his own. </p>
<p>He strokes the silver computer, opening it and closing it a few times, just admiring his slickness, the brand new touch of it, the lightness of the product. </p>
<p>He takes a picture of it next to the opened box and he sends it to Jonny. </p>
<p><b>Pat [10:21am]:</b> <em>*Picture sent*</em></p>
<p><b>Pat [10:21am]:</b> <em>It’s here! Thank you so much, Jonny! I would have been happy with any but this is incredible. </em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:22am]: </b> <em> You like it? </em></p>
<p>Patrick looks from his phone to the new computer, then directs his gaze to his old one -still sitting on his desk- and, finally, back to the new computer. He types his honest response on his phone and sends it to Jonny. </p>
<p><b>Pat [10:24am]:</b> <em>I love it 🖤</em></p>
<p><b>Jonny [10:25am]:</b> <em>Then I’m glad I bought that one ❤️️</em></p>
<p>
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<p> </p>
<p>Patrick isn’t expecting it when he receives yet another package only three days later, a week away from the start of his senior year. </p>
<p>When he opens the door to the delivery woman that is holding what looks to be quite a heavy, white box, he thinks it must be something either Dylan or Alex ordered. But then the woman asks for Patrick Kane and Pat, through his confusion, signs the delivery parcel and takes the package from her. It is indeed a very weighty box. </p>
<p>Pat carries the box to his bedroom, depositing it on his bed and trying to remember if there’s something he’s recently ordered to be delivered to the apartment. As he does this, he looks more closely at the white box, but there is no writing on it that gives any clues as to what business it comes from or what the contents of it are. </p>
<p>It’s only when he looks at the sticker on the box that includes his name and address that things become clearer to him. He should have known, really, should have realized that of course it wouldn’t have been him who ordered anything but that it was Jonny who sent it to him. </p>
<p>His stomach tightens, and Pat isn’t quite sure if it’s because of excitement or dread. He’s inevitably curious as to what Jonny has sent for him, but he’s also angry at Jonny for taking advantage of his initial acceptance of help.</p>
<p>Pat had known that accepting Jonny’s offer of buying him a new laptop would probably mean there would be further push from Jonny to allow him to help more. Pat just hadn't thought it would be quite so quickly. And he definitely hadn’t thought Jonny wouldn’t even wait for Pat’s confirmation to take things further. </p>
<p>Pat takes a picture of the box and then composes a text to Jonny, sending both things together. </p>
<p><b>Pat [9:12am]: </b> <em> *Picture sent* </em></p>
<p><b>Pat [9:13am]: </b> <em> I don’t remember agreeing to this. You can’t do whatever the fuck you want just because I said yes once and you’ve got the money to buy anything. That’s not how this works.  </em></p>
<p>Once the message is sent, Pat moves the box from his bed to a corner of his room where it won’t be too in the way, huffing under the weight of it. It taunts him every time he’s in his room and even when he isn’t. His hands twitch with the need to open it and peek at what’s inside but his cheeks flush with righteous anger every time he thinks of Jonny making this decision without consulting him. </p>
<p>Jonny’s messages and calls go ignored for a little over 24 hours, until Pat feels settled enough to have a conversation with him that won’t end up in him setting the damn package on fire. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Jonny says when Pat picks up the phone the next day before going to bed. </p>
<p>“You shouldn’t have fucking done that,” Pat replies, letting the iciness in his tone convey how mad and disappointed he truly feels. </p>
<p>“I know, god, I fucking know,” Jonny says, and in the spirit of keeping things fair, Patrick can grant him how genuinely sorry and regretful he sounds. “I got carried away, I was so excited and I didn’t think. None of that is an excuse. I know I fucked up.”</p>
<p>“You had to give me an entire speech to convince me to let you buy me a computer, and just days later you’re sending me things without discussing it first with me,” Patrick summarizes. “How could you think that was a good idea?”</p>
<p>“I told you: I just didn't think,” Jonny reiterates. “I truly am so sorry, Pat. I never meant to make you feel mad.”</p>
<p>“You made me feel ignored,” Pat corrects. “Mad, yes, but ignored too. Like what I had said before didn't fucking matter. Like you didn't care about my opinions.”</p>
<p>“I care,” Jonny whispers and Pat closes his eyes at the words. “Of course I care.”</p>
<p>“Well, you had a funny way of showing it, Mr. I Respect If You Tell Me No But I Will Send You This Anyway,” Pat says, his attempt at recreating a Canadian accent in the last words horrendous. </p>
<p>Neither Pat nor Jonny laugh, however, the conversation too important for that. </p>
<p>“I will apologize as many times as it takes,” Jonny swears and Pat immediately believes him despite still being mad. “I’ll make it up to you.”</p>
<p>Pat bites his lip at the solemnity that colors Jonny’s voice. This man, so honorable even in the face of his mistakes. </p>
<p>“But, Pat—” Jonny stammers over the next few words he wants to say, never truly completing one. </p>
<p>He stops for a second and silence falls upon them, like Jonny is taking his time to compose what he wants to say and how to say it in the best possible way. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to make you more angry but…” Jonny ends up saying and Pat frowns at the words. No sentence like that one has ever boded well for anyone. “I don't want what I sent you to go to waste. It’s not superfluous and I know you need it. So be mad at me but please, just… Open the box.”</p>
<p>How Jonny is so sure Pat hasn't opened the box yet Pat doesn't know, but it does, in fact, still sit there next to his closet, unopened and so intrusive for being an inanimate object.</p>
<p>Pat keeps looking at it silently for a few more seconds from his place in his bed. It’s almost a staring contest between Pat’s inquisitiveness and his self-worth. </p>
<p>“Pat?” Jonny asks. </p>
<p>“Why should I open it? Why shouldn’t I just send it back to you?” Pat questions, but he’s already sitting up in bed, the pull of interest too strong inside him. </p>
<p>“You need it, I know you do,” Jonny repeats. “Hate me all you want for how I did things but just see if you want to keep it. Please.”</p>
<p>Patrick stands up from his bed and he walks over to his desk, rummaging around in his drawers until he finds a pair of scissors. </p>
<p>“I don’t hate you,” Pat clarifies, truly hoping that’s not really what Jonny thinks. There’s a lot of hate inside him for how Jonny’s action made him feel but that hate isn’t directed at Jonny. He doesn’t think he could ever direct any hate at Jonny. </p>
<p>“Are you going to open it, then?” Jonny inquires just as Pat stops right in front of the box, phone in his left hand and scissors in his right one. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Pat answers, crunching down to run the tip of the scissors over the center of the flaps of the box, cutting the tape and opening the box to peer at what’s inside. </p>
<p>Jonny must have heard all the noises as Pat was opening the box because as soon as it’s open he asks, “What do you think?”</p>
<p>Patrick doesn't know what he thinks. </p>
<p>Inside the box, piled up neatly in two rows, there are textbooks. Textbooks Patrick is going to need in just a week when classes for fall semester start. </p>
<p>The books look brand new as Patrick starts taking them out of the box, all of them still wrapped in plastic film. There’s seven textbooks in total, four of them thicker and heavier, and three of them that are a little slimmer and smaller in size. Most of them are mandatory textbooks but two are books that were branded <em> optional </em> in his syllabi. </p>
<p>Patrick spreads the books around him on the floor, pushing the now empty box closer to the door. </p>
<p>“I don’t—I— This—” Patrick stutters. “This is a lot, Jonny.”</p>
<p>The price tags have been removed from every single one of the books but Pat knows their full retail price perfectly well. These are books he’s been searching for in second-hand bookstores, online forums and through college friends of his for weeks now. </p>
<p>He’s been complaining to Jonny about it during the whole process, like he complains to Jonny about everything he feels the need to complain about. He never could have imagined Jonny was paying so much attention, or that he would remember them so well. There are some books, in fact, that Pat knows he never even mentioned to Jonny. </p>
<p>“I hope they’re all the correct ones,” Jonny says. “I remembered some of titles but I emailed some of your professors to make sure I had them all.”</p>
<p>Coming from anyone else, that sentence would be a huge red flag and Patrick would be worried about stalking, danger and breaches of boundaries. Coming from Jonny, the gesture is nothing but proof of his thoughtful nature, one more sign of how much work he puts into the things he cares about. </p>
<p>
  <em> I care. Of course I care.  </em>
</p>
<p>“They’re all the correct ones,” Pat confirms. “This is a lot, Jonny.”</p>
<p>“You already said that,” Jonny chuckles.</p>
<p>“I’m still mad,” Pat rushes to say, needing to make clear the fact that the content of the gesture doesn't take away from the way it happened. “I am. But just… Thank you.”</p>
<p>“I know you’re still mad and I understand. I should have told you what I was planning, I was just…” Jonny sighs. “I was so happy when you got the computer and I guess I wanted to make you happy like that again.”</p>
<p>Patrick doesn’t reply to that. He <em> was </em> happy when he got the computer, overjoyed and ecstatic. Any hint of uncertainty or shame had been buried underneath mountains and mountains of excitement and relief. </p>
<p>Now, although the sight of the textbooks makes him feel so relieved that he won’t have to hustle for them any longer, the happiness he feels is overshadowed by everything that came before it. </p>
<p>“I just want to say sorry again,” Jonny apologizes once more. “I’ll understand if you won’t keep the books but I hope you do. I think it’ll make everything easier.”</p>
<p>“I’m keeping them,” Patrick responds, surprised to realize he hadn't even thought of any other possibility but that one. </p>
<p>He stands up from the floor and makes his way back to the bed, leaving the books on the floor with the intention to pick them up tomorrow. </p>
<p>Pat lets himself fall down onto the mattress, his body bouncing slightly up and down. </p>
<p>“I understand what you were trying to do and it’s so nice, Jonny,” Pat says. “But intentions aren’t everything and I don’t want this to happen again. I don't like feeling angry at you.”</p>
<p>“No, yeah, for sure, Pat, it definitely won’t happen again,” Jonny promises, and Pat smiles despite himself at his stumbling words. “I <em> hate </em> that you feel angry at me.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for the books,” Pat repeats. “It does make my life so much easier to have them already.”</p>
<p>Jonny clears his throat. “There is— There are a few other things that I think could make your life easier and I just—”</p>
<p>“Jonny…” Patrick groans, his eyes closing and his hand up coming to his forehead. </p>
<p>“No, no, listen, don’t be angrier, please,” Jonny begs. “It’s nothing outrageous or ridiculous, just a few things for school and the apartment. I won’t buy them if you don’t want them but maybe… Maybe you do want them?”</p>
<p>Patrick runs the thumb and index finger of his left hand over his eyebrows, feeling the coarse hairs there. </p>
<p>“I should have known the computer would open the floodgates,” Patrick mutters.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Jonny murmurs almost unintelligibly, but just this once he doesn't sound sorry at all. </p>
<p>Pat shakes his head where it’s resting on his pillow, tangling his hair on the back of his head making low rustling sounds from the friction against the pillowcase. </p>
<p>“Send me a list of things you were thinking about,” Pat concedes. “I’ll see if there’s anything I could use.”</p>
<p>Jonny sounds marveled at Pat’s response. “Really?”</p>
<p>Patrick raises an eyebrow as if Jonny was in front of him to see him do it. </p>
<p>“You want me to flat out tell you no now?” Pat tests.  </p>
<p>“No, no, no” Jonny denies vehemently. “I’ll send you a list and you can tell me what you want.”</p>
<p>“<em> If </em> there’s anything I want,” Patrick stipulates, needing to know Jonny will truly bear it if Pat ends up telling him there’s nothing he can accept from the list. </p>
<p>“<em> If </em> there’s anything you want,” Jonny echoes, and Pat feels eons more comfortable with that answer. </p>
<p>“And Pat? I just want to say I’m sorry one more time,” Jonny reiterates.</p>
<p>“I know you are,” Pat says, turning onto his side to continue the rest of the conversation, trying to leave behind the mistakes that have no business following them around. </p>
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<p>Pat can’t put into words just how useful Jonny’s second gift is. </p>
<p>Thanks to not having to search and negotiate tirelessly to buy the books, he can spend the last few days of his break relaxing. It feels luxurious, too, every touch of the books the first times he uses them in class. They’re completely unmarked, the newest editions of each of them, their pages crisp and soft. </p>
<p>It takes about ten days for things to go back to normal with Jonny. It would have probably taken longer if not for the fact that Pat sees the books every day just sitting on his desk, inevitably screaming Jonny’s name and reminding him of Jonny’s true motivations. </p>
<p>Despite Jonny’s oversight and his overstepping, there was no malice behind his action and he’s proven to Patrick his regret and his desire to do better. </p>
<p>Little by little, Pat starts lowering his defenses again, stops overthinking his and Jonny’s conversations, and stops constantly looking for hints and clues that everything will go badly again. </p>
<p>It’s ridiculous to think so, but sometimes, in the still moments before he picks up a call from Jonny or in the exhilarating seconds after he’s just hung up on him, Pat thinks this might have just brought them closer together. Like a newlywed couple that goes through their first married fight. Patrick tries not to look too much into the comparison his mind comes up with. </p>
<p>Things go a little unsteady between them the first time after their fight that Pat mentions something he needs to buy. </p>
<p>There’s really nothing wrong with his backpack per se, so <em> need </em> is perhaps too strong of a word. But <em> want </em> is also not an accurate one. </p>
<p>Pat intends it to be just a passing comment, nothing more than a quick acknowledgement of how much easier it would be to carry his laptop to class if he had a bag in which it could fit into. </p>
<p>Jonny goes suspiciously silent at that and Patrick tenses up in response to the silence. He quickly notes his reaction and he recognizes it as a defense mechanism. But Pat doesn't want to get defensive before he even gives Jonny a chance to speak once again so he forces his spine to relax and his shoulders to drop.</p>
<p>Jonny still doesn't speak after a few more seconds have passed so Pat swallows and takes the lead himself. </p>
<p>“What?” he inquires, hoping Jonny will be honest with him without needing to be pressed. </p>
<p>Jonny chuckles but the sound doesn't sound amused, it sounds nervous, maybe even a little bit hesitant. </p>
<p>“My first thought was that I could buy one for you,” Jonny confesses. “Like send it over to you and everything, but obviously, like, I know better now…”</p>
<p>It humbles Pat how committed Jonny really is to being better, how his words and promises don’t just stay that and actually become actions and change. It isn’t just about this one specific thing, it’s about every aspect of Jonny’s life, from his work, to social causes, to his relationships with those he cares about. The fact that in this case all that commitment is put into Patrick does feels special, almost like an honor. </p>
<p>“But I guess I can just ask, right?” Jonny asks, his words a little fast and jumbled compared to his usual talking pace. “If there’s a specific one you’d want or anything. Obviously it’s your decision but just know that I’m offering, okay, and, like, I’d be happy to help. And hey, I asked, eh?”</p>
<p>Patrick rolls his eyes at the last question. </p>
<p>“So because you asked and did well this time I should reward you by letting you buy me a bag?” Pat asks, a little sarcastically. </p>
<p>Jonny’s voice sounds sheepish when he trails off saying, “Well…”</p>
<p>“That wouldn't be a reward for you, that’d be a gift for me!” Patrick points out exasperatedly. Only Jonny would think of something he does that benefits another person as a prize for himself as well. “And I’m not rewarding you for not being stupid this time.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough,” Jonny agrees. “This isn't about you accepting just because this time I did better. I’m just saying… If you want it, just say it. The offer will still stand.”</p>
<p>For the next few days after that conversation, Patrick is hyperaware of the issue. The fact remains that he doesn't need a new bag but he does notice every instance in which having a good one would make things easier for him. The simple task of carrying a coffee to class would be made simpler if he didn't have to also hold his computer as if he was cradling a child. </p>
<p>He ends up caving, although he hates thinking of it in those terms. He prefers thinking of it as making a calculated choice, weighing in every pro and con, researching, thinking and, finally, deciding what’s best for everyone. Both for him and Jonny, yes, because it’s a decision that concerns them both. </p>
<p>“I want that new bag,” he blurts out first thing in his next conversation with Jonny, not even making time for a greeting beforehand.</p>
<p>Jonny, unsurprisingly, is elated. </p>
<p>Pat feels better knowing the entire process was made on his own terms: he had the opportunity to refuse the offer, he decided when to say yes and he’s gone far enough to this time choose the exact product he wants so the decision won’t be in Jonny’s hands.</p>
<p>Receiving his bag feels good, definitely better than receiving the textbooks and, in a way, better than receiving his laptop. </p>
<p>This was <em> him </em>. He had all the power here. </p>
<p>Jonny must catch onto Pat’s satisfaction with how the situation went -most likely due to Pat’s extreme delight over the package when it’s sent to him- because his approach to things changes. He makes very obvious efforts to hand Pat the reins of things, he makes it clear that everything is Pat’s choice, that it’s <em> his </em> show to run.  </p>
<p>He makes offers, repeating time and time again that that’s all they are and Pat can ignore them as he pleases. He waits for Pat’s affirmative responses every time and he always leaves decisions up to Patrick, going with his choices even when he vocally disagrees with them. </p>
<p>The strategy works in Jonny’s favor, even with Patrick being somewhat aware of it. </p>
<p>That’s how Patrick ends up with a new coffee maker for the apartment when the old one breaks. It’s how his MBTA monthly passes start being paid off by Jonny and not himself. That’s how he ends up opening two packages from two different clothing stores and trying on two new jackets and one new coat on a Friday night as he Facetimes Jonny. It’s how he starts paying with a gift card instead of with his credit card at the Starbucks on campus. </p>
<p>These gifts and his acceptance of them make him feel nothing like Jonny buying the textbooks of his own volition made him feel. There’s no resentment, no anger, no shame and no regret. There’s only happiness, gratitude, excitement and relief. </p>
<p>Patrick, for whom money has always been such a sensitive issue, for whom reliance on other people has always been unthinkable. Patrick never would have thought he’d be so comfortable and secure in this, in Jonny’s help, in Jonny. </p>
<p>Patrick never would have thought he’d relish in feeling taken care of. He never would have imagined the butterflies in his stomach that flutter frantically at the thought of Jonny cherishing him this way. </p>
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<p>It’s a stupid comment that Jonny makes about Patrick’s birthday that makes Pat start thinking about it. </p>
<p>It’s obvious that Jonny wants a little more freedom in his gift-giving, now that he’s seen that Pat has responded well to the routine they’ve established. Pat can feel him itch to offer more, can feel him desperate to lavish Pat in bigger and grander things. </p>
<p>“Maybe for your birthday you’ll let me surprise you with something more special.”</p>
<p>Pat lets the comment go and changes the direction of the conversation, not quite ready yet for the exploration it would entail. Or maybe he’s not quite ready to face what that exploration would lead to because he’s almost sure of what his final answer would be. </p>
<p>(He doesn't really want to admit just yet that he’s past the point of telling Jonny no.)</p>
<p>But Jonny’s comment does spark an internal debate for Pat. </p>
<p>Patrick has always loved birthdays profoundly, more other people’s birthdays than his own. He’s proud to say he’s an excellent gift-giver and he’s always found real pleasure in making someone happy with something he’s put a lot of thought into. </p>
<p>When they were younger, Patrick always went all out for his sisters’ birthdays, and his cards, bracelets, and other hand-made gifts, were received with such joy and delight that Pat started planning them months and months in advance to do better each time. Nowadays, his sisters and him still’ve got a tacit agreement of only gifting each other arts and crafts that don’t require big monetary sacrifices from any of them. </p>
<p>In his friend groups, when it comes to thinking of a gift for Dylan or Alex or any of his other hockey buddies, Pat tends to be the one always in charge of the task. And he loves it, he truly does. He loves the challenge, the rush of imagining what someone’s reaction will be to each of the possible gifts, and he loves when the time comes to finally present someone with their gift, watching their faces for any clues as to their true feelings on Pat’s choice. </p>
<p>So Patrick loves birthdays, he truly does. And Jonny’s comment about Pat’s own birthday makes Pat realize joyously that he’s now got one more person in his life for whom he gets to gift that joy to. Until he realizes that Jonny’s case may be different from everyone else’s. </p>
<p>What can Pat really offer Jonny? What is there that Patrick could give him that would be special enough for a man that can buy himself almost anything?</p>
<p>Pat comes to the conclusion that there is nothing. Nothing new that he could offer Jonny for a birthday, special occasion or simple treat. Jonny could -and would- move the Moon just for Patrick, and Pat can barely point out where the Moon is in the sky on a mildly overcast day. </p>
<p>The feeling this brings Patrick is disheartening. Jonny is, without a doubt, the most important person in Pat’s life at the moment, and although he’s been aware from the very beginning of their differences in status and power, it’s only now that he's got proof of how this can affect them in the most mundane of ways that he really struggles with it. </p>
<p>He mopes about this for a few days, incapable of forgetting about it even though Jonny’s birthday is in April, and any other holiday -like Christmas- that would be an excuse for gifts is nowhere in sight yet. </p>
<p>The solution comes to him in the simplest of moments and in the silliest of ways. </p>
<p>He’s lying in bed, body completely bare against his navy sheets, trying to find the most alluring of positions to take a picture. He knows Jonny’s in a meeting, and the idea of him receiving a picture of Patrick spread out and nude all for him while in the company of so many other people thrills Patrick. </p>
<p>And this is it, he realizes. This is the one thing Pat can offer Jonny that requires no money, that Jonny can’t simply get himself and that no else can offer him. </p>
<p>Patrick’s got himself to offer. </p>
<p>And he lives for offering himself up to Jonny, he lives for it because he knows Jonny lives for it just as much as he does. </p>
<p>Once the realization hits him Patrick can’t put it out of his mind. The possibilities are wide open, limitless and beyond exciting. Most people would probably think there are few things Patrick can really do, just take the same old pictures, the same old videos. But most people don’t have Pat’s imagination or his eye for gift-giving. </p>
<p>A picture doesn't have to be just a picture if it’s intended as a gift. A video doesn't have to be just a video if it’s meant for a special day. </p>
<p>Patrick is so, so excited, his skin feeling too tight to hold him inside his body. He’s ready to fly, ready to plan and prepare and execute. And yet, Jonny’s birthday still isn't until April and Christmas is months away.</p>
<p>But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and Patrick decides that special occasions aren't just special because they can be marked on a calendar. Special occasions can be made special because you’ve chosen them to be. And who says receiving a new pair of earphones can’t be a day to celebrate?</p>
<p>He’s on the phone with Jonny, having called him as soon as he got to the apartment to see the small Apple box waiting for him. He’s playing around with it, opening and closing it to constantly look at the Air Pods inside. </p>
<p>Jonny is drawling away in his ear, explaining why he thinks Pat should have gone for another company’s product that looked more reliable and that Pat knows were at least twice as expensive. </p>
<p>Jonny falls silent after a few minutes, and Patrick clears his throat to finally say what he’s been waiting minutes -days, weeks- to say. </p>
<p>“So…” Pat starts saying, his voice pitched a little lower than normal, the cadence of it a little slower, more seductive. “I’ve realized I haven’t properly thanked you for any of these gifts yet, Jonny.”</p>
<p>“Thank me?” Jonny sounds confused. “You’ve thanked me, Pat.”</p>
<p>“But not properly,” Pat insists. “Not really.”</p>
<p>“How… What do you mean?” Jonny asks, like he still has no idea where Pat’s trying to lead the conversation. </p>
<p>“What’s something you’ve always wanted to see but I haven’t shown yet?” Pat finally asks, his own words warming his belly and drying his mouth in anticipation. “Anything at all, Jonny. Anything you want…”</p>
<p>“Pat,” Jonny pronounces, breathless and awed. </p>
<p>Patrick bites his lip and presses his left hand over his heart, feeling it beat wildly. </p>
<p>“You—” Jonny interrupts himself by coughing and swallowing. “You know I don't expect anything in return. You don’t have to do this.”</p>
<p>His voice is a lot more serious now, showing the honesty and importance that his statement holds. There’s still something underlaying it, though, a tiny hint of excitement, a quiet suggestion of allure. </p>
<p>“We’ve been over this before,” Patrick reminds him, referring to when they started sending pictures to each other and Jonny was adamant to not push Pat. “I don't have to but I <em> want </em> to.”</p>
<p>A sharp inhale can be heard through the line, followed by a harsh swallowing sound. </p>
<p>“What do you mean by anything, though?” Jonny breathes. </p>
<p>“By this point, Jonny, when I say anything, I really do mean anything,” Pat confirms. “I think we’re at the point where we don't have to doubt that.”</p>
<p>“Fuck, Pat,” Jonny groans. “You really are trying to kill me. This is…. God, this is everything.”</p>
<p>Patrick laughs, still feeling the drum of desire and excitement inside, but a little duller now, as if Jonny’s acceptance and approval of his idea has made his feelings less frantic.</p>
<p>“You’re incredible, I— I have no words,” Jonny says. Patrick can’t help but feel proud of how out of sorts and flabbergasted he sounds. </p>
<p>“I don’t need a list now,” Pat reassures him. “Just, you know, don’t wait for me to bring it up. There has to be things you’d like and, to be honest, I… It’s so hot thinking about it.”</p>
<p>“I’m definitely going to put that mouth to good use,” Jonny states, like the simple idea doesn't Pat get hard in under a second. “Get you sucking your fingers, maybe, imagining they're mine.”</p>
<p>“Jonny…” Pat moans, his hand immediately traveling downwards towards his crotch, pressing hard against his hardening dick. </p>
<p>“You’ve got some toys, right? Maybe I wanna watch you deep-throat one, get your lips all red for me,” Jonny keeps going and Pat bites said lips so he won’t let out a desperate and wanton sound. </p>
<p>“I’m so lucky, Pat, so lucky that you’re giving me this,” Jonny says and Pat shakes his head, wanting to say he’s the lucky one, but his throat only knows how to whimper and keen as his hand makes its way into his jeans and underwear and starts stroking his dick. </p>
<p>“I do have my first request now,” Jonny announces. “But you can say no, Pat. Always remember that you can say no.” </p>
<p>“What?” Patrick demands, his hair already matted with sweat and chest heaving in pleasure. “What, Jonny? Tell me.”</p>
<p>“I want to give you things, things you don't need, things that are fun, things to enjoy and love and not just use because they’re convenient. I want to give you things to wear so you’ll show me. I want to surprise you and I want to treat you to the pleasure you can’t normally have,” Jonny explains, his words a little rushed, his voice still a stroke of pleasure down the back of Pat’s neck. </p>
<p>Patrick knew this moment was coming, he just didn't expect it to happen while his dick was in his hand.</p>
<p>Jonny must notice that Pat has stopped his actions as he deliberates Jonny’s words because he demands, “Keep getting yourself off. I know you were close.”</p>
<p>It’s immediate, how Pat follows Jonny’s order and goes back to moving his hand up and down his shaft, the contact a little dry, only helped along by the pre-come leaking through his tip. </p>
<p>“I want you to bring your hand to your mouth now, Pat,” Jonny instructs and Pat whines thinking about letting go of his dick. “I know, baby, but it’ll feel so much better.”</p>
<p>Pat whines again but he obeys. </p>
<p>“Put your fingers inside your mouth, now, one by one,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>The sounds Pat’s fingers make as he brings them to his mouth and licks them are obscene. Jonny stays silent through it, like he’s focusing all of his attention on them. </p>
<p>“That’s it, baby,” Jonny talks again after Pat has thoroughly licked all five of his fingers. “Now lick your palm, lap it up with your tongue, leave it really wet.”</p>
<p>Pat does this as well, as he begs silently in his brain for Jonny to give him permission to touch himself again. </p>
<p>As if Jonny is reading his thoughts the next thing he says is, “Now, stroke your dick again.”</p>
<p>Pat strokes himself twice quickly before slowing down the rhythm of his caresses. The slickness of his saliva helps his movements and Pat closes his eyes to lose himself fully in the feelings. </p>
<p>“I just want to treat you right, Patrick, you know that, right?” Jonny asks. “You’re so special to me, I don’t know if I’ve said it before but you are. I’ve never met anyone like you, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. Who would have thought I’d find you in a stupid sugar daddy app, eh? All those men out there wanting you but you're touching your cock just for me.”</p>
<p>Patrick presses firmly at the base of his dick, trying to make the moment last longer and toying with his balls for a little bit until he feels ready to touch his dick again without the threat of coming in a second. </p>
<p>“I want to see you wear things I’ve bought you, Pat, beautiful things just like you,” Jonny says. “I want to send you silky sheets that you can lay on and feel on your naked skin. I want you to have a butt-plug I’ve chosen and I want you to wear it around all day and think of me every time you move. Those are things I want, Patrick.”</p>
<p>It had completely slipped Patrick’s mind that Jonny had even brought up the conversation just a minute ago, his mind too fogged up and focused on his body and its bliss. </p>
<p>“I want you and I want to take care of you,” Jonny states. “Please tell me I can, please.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s hand speeds up its pace, twisting to the right in every upstroke just like he prefers it, his thumb pressing down on the slit of his dick, making his hips buck off from the mattress. </p>
<p>“Please, Patrick, please,” Jonny begs and Patrick loses his mind. </p>
<p>No one has ever wanted him this much. He’s ever wanted anyone this much. </p>
<p>Perhaps it’s not rational, perhaps it’s dangerous. Perhaps there’s something wrong with so much of himself being now tied to a person he doesn’t even know in person, a person he’s let control his life in a way. But Patrick is well past the point of caring. </p>
<p>Patrick has let himself fall and he’s not sure there’s a bottom to reach, just an eternal descent into madness, an endless stumble into love. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Patrick moans, head thrown back, hips pushed up, feet planted on the mattress as his hand starts blurring with the movements on his cock. “Okay, Jonny, you can, yes, yes.”</p>
<p>“Now come, Pat,” Jonny directs, and just like that Pat follows. </p>
<p>His come paints his knuckles, the back of his hand and his fingers white, and the sound of Jonny coming on the other end of the line paints Patrick’s heart multicolor. </p>
<p>
  <em> Okay, Jonny, you can, yes, yes. </em>
</p>
<p>Pat’s known for a while now, he’s well past the point of telling Jonny no. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a short-sleeved, stretched-out Blackhawks t-shirt, a plain grey sweatshirt that is incredibly soft to the touch and a pair of black joggers that look a few inches too long for Patrick resting on his bed. Everything came inside an unannounced package Jonny sent him -the first of what Pat knows will be many- and the contents are definitely not what Pat was expecting. </p>
<p>These don’t look like the kind of clothes Jonny would treat Pat to. These look like clothes Pat could already own, if not for the fact that the sizes are completely wrong for him. </p>
<p>The piece that catches Pat’s eye the most is the t-shirt. It looks well-worn, old in a comforting way, like it’s been cared for and regularly used because its owner loved it. The lettering on the chest is faded, giving the article a vintage kind of look, the Blackhawks logo now more soft pastel colors than bright ones. It isn’t particularly soft, Pat notes when he picks it up, the feel of it that of a regular cotton t-shirt. </p>
<p>Pat catches a whiff of scent from the t-shirt when he shakes it out to extend his arms and look it over. It’s not a bad smell or a good one, and it’s not particularly strong either, but it does confirm Patrick’s suspicions about it being a used shirt. </p>
<p>And then it hits him unexpectedly, although it shouldn't be a surprise at all. Patrick should have known it as soon as he opened the package, as soon as he pulled the clothes out and laid them down on his bed to study them.</p>
<p>This is Jonny’s t-shirt. </p>
<p>These are Jonny’s clothes. </p>
<p>Patrick can’t control the impulse to bring the t-shirt closer to his face, wrinkling it up by gripping it tightly in his hands and pressing it to his nose. Patrick inhales sharply, trying to identify the different individual smells and remember them all. </p>
<p>The mix of smells combines well and it can be boiled down to two: there’s a hint of laundry detergent -the kind of smell that lingers even after you use your clothes after washing them-, a pretty neutral and typical one; but then there’s the most overpowering scent, the scent of cologne mixed in with a more natural odor, like the t-shirt hasn't been washed since the last time it was worn. </p>
<p>This is what Jonny must smell like. This is the scent Jonny’s body must have left behind on this t-shirt after he used it. </p>
<p>There’s science to back up the fact that human beings have five senses and Pat has always believed that, but with Jonny’s t-shirt in hand Patrick wonders if there isn't any chance that scientists have got it all wrong. </p>
<p>He feels hyper-aware all of a sudden, like more than just his eyes, his skin, his ears, his nose and his mouth are sending sensory inputs to his brain. He’s connected to everything fully in a way he lacks proper words to explain. </p>
<p>Pat’s holding Jonny’s t-shirt in his hands but maybe it’s also Jonny’s t-shirt that’s holding him. And, is it possible that by having this one piece of clothing that has been on Jonny for -probably- so long he’s closer to Jonny as well? Is it possible that he’s here <em> and </em> there, wherever Jonny is?</p>
<p>There have to be more than five senses to explain all that Jonny is able to make Patrick feel. There have to be undiscovered and unstudied ways in which the human brain works that explain the way in which Jonny has made himself a home in Patrick’s life. </p>
<p>Pat, with his face still buried in Jonny’s t-shirt, takes one more deep breath, committing the smell -now his favorite in the world- to memory.  He lays the t-shirt down again next to the other clothes and he picks up his phone from the night-stand, clicking on Jonny’s contact on his Recent Call log.</p>
<p>Jonny doesn't take long to respond, picking up the call after only two tones. </p>
<p>“Hey, Pat,” Jonny greets, sounding breathless. </p>
<p>Pat assumes Jonny must have been working out, the time of day fitting with Jonny’s usual routine time for his scheduled daily workout. </p>
<p>“I didn’t imagine this was what you meant when you said you wanted me to wear things you’d bought,” Patrick comments, signaling at the clothes on his bed even though Jonny can't see him because they’re only on a voice call. </p>
<p>“Oh, the package arrived?” Jonny asks, and through the line Pat can detect that he sounds excited about it, almost giddy. </p>
<p>“Yes, it did—”</p>
<p>Pat hasn't even managed to finish his sentence when the call is ended, leaving him pulling the phone away from his ear and staring at the screen. A Facetime call notification from Jonny lights up his screen as he’s staring at it and he rolls his eyes affectionately before picking up. </p>
<p>“Are you wearing them?” is what Jonny asks as soon as Patrick can see his face on the screen, Jonny’s home gym in the background, confirming Pat’s suspicions about Jonny working out. </p>
<p>“Am I wearing your clothes? Is that what you’re asking, Jonny?” Patrick rebuts, an eyebrow raised, the right corner of his mouth lifted and his voice painted beautifully with a playful tone. </p>
<p>Patrick watches Jonny’s cheeks turn pink under the tan color of his skin, the bridge of his nose also tinting lightly. It’s a good look on him, this sheepish -almost embarrassed- expression on his face, this sweet and surprising show of his humanity. </p>
<p>“Was that— Was it okay? That I sent them?” Jonny checks, looking worried. </p>
<p>Pat smiles at him reassuringly and Jonny’s face relaxes before Pat even says anything. </p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Pat answers, sitting down carefully on the bed so the clothes on it won’t be jostled, keeping his arm extended and unwavering so Jonny can see him properly. “I just wasn’t expecting it. My favorite is the Hawks t-shirt.”</p>
<p>Jonny lets out a soft laugh and Patrick’s heart tumbles in his chest as he watches it happen. Jonny’s face always looks a little ridiculous when he laughs, a little dorky even. His nose scrunches up, making his eyes squint and small laugh lines appear on the corner of his eyes. </p>
<p>It’s like, when Jonny laughs, his body can’t contain all the joy that has built up inside it and it releases it through every pore of Jonny’s being. It’s blinding to gaze at Jonny as he laughs, hypnotic in the way he does so, completely uninhibited and unbothered by the world for just a few seconds. </p>
<p>“That’s my favorite Hawks t-shirt, too,” Jonny announces. “It’s my lucky t-shirt, actually.”</p>
<p>“And you sent it to me?” Patrick asks, a little awed, biting his lip when he realizes Jonny must be reading it perfectly well on his face. </p>
<p>Jonny’s mouth sets on a smile, the smile that Pat has been secretly calling <em> “my smile” </em> in his head for weeks now. It’s a small one, smaller than some of the other ones Jonny sometimes wears, but it’s more beautiful than all the others combined. It’s a smile that reaches Jonny’s brown eyes, making them shine brightly. It’s a smile that seems effortless, like Jonny isn’t even aware his happiness is being reflected like that to the world. </p>
<p>“I wanted you to have it,” Jonny says. “It can still be my lucky t-shirt even if you have it. It can be <em> our </em> lucky t-shirt. “</p>
<p>This time, Pat knows he’s the one who’s blushing, his fair skin probably making it a lot more obvious on his face and his neck than it was on Jonny. </p>
<p>“Try it on,” Jonny requests and Pat frowns at the words, looking to his left at the clothes. </p>
<p>“Now?” he wonders, looking back at Jonny through his phone screen, and Jonny shrugs in response. </p>
<p>“Why not?” Jonny asks. “I want to see how it looks on you.”</p>
<p>“Just the t-shirt?” Pat asks, still hesitating but knowing he’s going to end up caving to Jonny’s desires. </p>
<p>“Yeah, you can show me the rest another time,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>Pat takes a deep breath, licking his lips and staring deeply at his screen where he can see Jonny patiently waiting for him to decide. He doesn't say anything in reply to Jonny’s last comment, just gets up from the bed and walks over to his desk, propping his phone up on some books so it faces his bed and it won’t tip over. </p>
<p>This part is familiar by now, taking his shirt off in front of a camera, Jonny’s watchful gaze set hungrily on him. Patrick never turns it into a show, mainly because he wouldn’t know how to do it, but Jonny always seems more than pleased with Pat’s methods anyway. </p>
<p>Pat throws his t-shirt in the direction of his closet, standing bare-chested for a while in front of his desk. The fingers of his right hand run through the coarse, blond hair that disappears into the waistband of his pants. Through the tiny speakers of his iPhone Pat can hear Jonny inhale sharply and that small sound is the confidence booster that Pat needed. </p>
<p>Pat turns around and takes the two steps that separate him from his bed. He grabs the Blackhawks t-shirt and puts it on quickly, the motion tousling his hair. Pat knows Jonny has somewhat of a thing for seeing his blond curls in disarray so he doesn’t bother fixing them before turning back around so Jonny can look at him to his heart’s content. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Patrick…” Jonny groans. </p>
<p>The t-shirt is big on Pat, not by much but enough to be easily noticeable. The fabric around the shoulders has been stretched out, so the neckline falls low on Pat’s clavicle, making it peak through it. The chest part is also loose on Pat’s own chest and the only parts that truly fits as if it was Pat’s t-shirt are the arms. </p>
<p>Pat runs his hands down his chest, feeling the fabric with the palms of his hands and his fingertips. He stops his hands in the middle of his chest, spacing his fingers out to cover the entirety of the letter and the Hawks logo. He moves his hands down a bit so that his thumbs can rub circles around his nipples. The motion gets them hard quickly, showing through the material of the shirt. </p>
<p>Jonny groans again and Pat pinches his nipples at the sound, feeling the zap of electricity all the way to his crotch. </p>
<p>“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Pat. You wearing my t-shirt, a shirt I’ve worn too… Jonny says and Pat’s dick gets harder at the reminder. “I need to see you better, Pat. Can we move this to Skype so I can see you on my computer?”</p>
<p>Pat nods, grateful that Jonny thought about it so he’ll be able to see Jonny better as well. </p>
<p>They don't end their Facetime call until they’ve got their Skype session running, Patrick sat on his bed, his back against the headboard and his legs spread out so his laptop is set between them. Jonny has also moved to his room and his bed, but he’s still wearing his workout clothes. </p>
<p>“I’ve got something I want to do, Pat,” Jonny says. “One of those things I’ve wanted to see but you haven’t shown me.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Anything.  </em>
</p>
<p>“I want you to finger yourself and show me.”</p>
<p>Pat’s head falls back, colliding painfully with the headboard, and he presses his hand into his dick through his pants and his underwear. </p>
<p>“But,” Jonny continues, on a mission to kill Pat with words. “I want you to wear my t-shirt while you do it. I want you to have that piece of me with you.”</p>
<p>Pat brings his head forward again, focusing his gaze on Jonny, who’s sat on his bed in the same position as Pat, and who’s taken his shirt off and is only wearing tight compression pants that show off his thighs and let Pat see how affected he already is. </p>
<p>There’s absolutely no hesitancy now, perhaps because all the blood in Pat’s body has traveled to his dick and his brain power is null at the moment. He takes off his pants and underwear in record time without getting up from the bed -having to maneuver around and contort his body in awkward shapes- and is soon naked from the waist down.</p>
<p>He takes a peak at himself on the right-hand corner of his laptop’s screen and the image he paints is obscene. His face is completely flushed, especially his cheeks, and he’s starting to visibly sweat through Jonny’ t-shirt, through <em> their </em> t-shirt. He shouldn't be finding that erotic at all but there’s an unexplainable intimacy in the fact that </p>
<p>His body is Jonny’s to look at and Jonny’s to admire. </p>
<p>Jonny takes his compression pants off with more finesse and grace than Pat took his clothes off. He’s a sight to behold, Jonny. His skin tone contrasts nicely against his plain, white sheets and Pat is bewitched by the sight of his moving muscles, smooth edges and sharp curves all over his body. </p>
<p>“Do you have lube?” Jonny has lowered his voice and it helps Patrick believe that they’re the only two people in the entire world. </p>
<p>Pat nods, stretching his body towards his nightstand to grab the bottle. He can hear Jonny gasp and Pat smirks, his face hidden from the camera. He knows his own muscles and he knows them in this context now, as well. He knows his angles and twists and margins and he knows how to work them for Jonny. </p>
<p>His body is Jonny’s to look at and Jonny’s to admire. </p>
<p>Patrick moves to his previous position once he’s grabbed the bottle of lube but, this time, he spreads his legs further apart and he places a pillow under his hips so he’ll have an easier time reaching his ass. </p>
<p>“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, Patrick,” Jonny praises. </p>
<p>Jonny looks dazed, his eyes focusing on different parts of Pat’s body every few seconds. His chest, his face, his thighs, his cock. But Jonny’s eyes always return to the space created between Pat’s legs. Positioned like this Pat knows Jonny must have a perfect view of his hole. </p>
<p>“What should I do? How should I start?” Pat asks, waiting for Jonny’s instructions before starting to touch himself. </p>
<p>He’s never done this before, let himself be talked into what to do, when to do it and how to do it, but from minute one it’s always felt natural with Jonny. </p>
<p>“You’re going to start slow,” Jonny instructs. “Just your index finger circling your rim.” </p>
<p>Pat swallows as he squeezes some lube into his right hand, spreading it over his fingers well before reaching down towards his hole. He feels around his rim with his fingertip, pressing a little bit into his hole once before circling it again, letting his nail drag slightly through the puckered skin. </p>
<p>“Good, baby, so good,” Jonny says, his right hand moving to his cock and stroking it twice before stopping. “Now put it inside slowly.”</p>
<p>Patrick obeys and he exhales, relaxing his muscles as he pushes his index finger inside past the second knuckle. He wiggles it a little bit when it’s pushed all the way in, twisting his wrist to move his finger around more easily. </p>
<p>“Suck your other fingers, Pat,” Jonny says, his hand moving up and down his cock again. </p>
<p>Patrick does just that, putting two of his fingers in his mouth and running his tongue over them. His eyes are still focused on Jonny’s hand running down his dick and Pat moans when he catches some pre-come spurting out of the head of Jonny’s dick and running down the shaft until it reaches Jonny’s fingers. </p>
<p>“Try putting in another finger in your hole, baby, c’mon. It’s going to feel so good,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>The second finger enters Pat’s whole easily but the burn he feels is greater than with just one finger inside him. He takes a few deep breaths before he starts scissoring his fingers, widening his hole millimeter by millimeter. </p>
<p>“Crook them, Pat, try to reach further.”</p>
<p>Pat has to curve his back to do this, his wrist protesting the angle. It’s worth it, however, when his fingertips reach his prostate and a wave of shooting stars travels through all his body -his nerves, muscles, bones- and lights him up, igniting his core for centuries to come. </p>
<p>“That’s it, that’s it. God, Patrick, you look so fucking incredible. Your tiny little hole taking your fingers so good. It’s so pretty,” Jonny babbles, his hand jerking his cock a lot more quickly now. “Imagine if those were my fingers, imagine if I was preparing you for my dick.”</p>
<p>Patrick moans, ramming his fingers into his sweet spot once more, twice more, so close to release and so far from Jonny. </p>
<p>“Jonny,” Patrick cries, the word muffled by his fingers on his tongue, awaiting more instructions impatiently, his left hand gripping his sheets in a fist. </p>
<p>“Add a third finger now. My dick is big, Pat, you’re going to need to be really stretched,” Jonny says. </p>
<p>It’s a tighter fit to have three fingers inside him and moving them is more difficult, but the fullness is so good, so good, <em> so good </em>.  Pat moans around his fingers and his eyes want to close instinctively but Pat fights to keep them open. He doesn't want to miss a single second of looking at Jonny. </p>
<p>The head of Jonny’s dick is glistening now, so much pre-come wetting it and coating Jonny’s fingers, so much pre-come that Pat would love to lap up. God, to have it inside him, filling him up, completing him. </p>
<p>God, to have Jonny with him, inside him, around him, over him. Completing him. </p>
<p>“Push against your prostate now, baby.” Pat does but Jonny clucks his tongue at him and directs him again. “Harder, sweetheart. Like I would do it to make you lose your mind. I wouldn't let you breathe, Patrick, I wouldn’t let you think.”</p>
<p>Pat pushes harder, his wrist on the verge of locking up, his toes curling, his legs trembling, his hips moving in unison to his fingers. </p>
<p>“You’d feel so good, Pat, so good around my dick. All for me, baby,” Jonny pants, pumping his dick mercilessly with one hand and squeezing his balls with the other. </p>
<p>Pat pulls his fingers away from his mouth, spit trailing down his chin, to speak properly. “All for you, Jonny.”</p>
<p>One, two, three strokes and Jonny comes, shooting up onto his chest, a grunt pushing out of his throat.</p>
<p>One, two, three pushes later and Patrick comes, his come painting his t-shirt and reaching his neck. </p>
<p>It takes a few minutes for Pat’s breathing to slow down and for his mind to clear, the fog of lust receding, finally satiated. He spends all this time looking at Jonny as he also works on calming his breath. Jonny doesn't pull his eyes away from Patrick’s either. </p>
<p>It hits him suddenly, as he’s cleaning the come from his right hand against his sheets. The t-shirt. </p>
<p>“I got come on our t-shirt.” Pat pouts, looking down at the white splotches on the fabric, trying to eliminate them by rubbing them but not succeeding. Jonny laughs fondly at him, shaking his head, one arm behind his head and the other one resting on his dirty stomach. </p>
<p>“It’s alright, Pat, I can send you a hundred more,” Jonny promises. </p>
<p>“But this is our lucky one,” Pat complains, refusing to part with this t-shirt now. it’s his and Jonny’s. <em> Their </em> t-shirt.</p>
<p>“Well, I’d say it’s much luckier now, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>And Jonny is right. Their lucky, lucky shirt. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>The next morning, Patrick wakes up to the apartment’s doorbell ringing, and when he reaches over to peak with his left eye at the time on his phone screen he groans upon realizing he’s been woken at 7:10AM on a Saturday. </p>
<p>He doesn't move from his bed, though, figuring he can let Alex or Dylan deal with whoever is at the door at this ungodly hour. It’s comfortable in his bed, the comforter soft against his bare chest, Jonny’s sweatpants hiding his feet completely as if he was wearing footie pajamas, the warmth lulling him back to semi-unconsciousness in record time. </p>
<p>The peace only lasts for a few seconds, his door opening abruptly, startling him out of the edge of sleep. Dylan walks into his room looking both murderous and soft, his face set in a menacing scowl but his tangled and tousled hair betraying the fact that he’s just gotten out of bed.</p>
<p>Dylan’s carrying a rectangular, black box in his hands, conspicuous in all of its tried inconspicuousness. He drops it carelessly by Pat’s feet on his bed and he crosses his arms while he looks at Pat. </p>
<p>“Tell your sugar daddy to have his deliveries made at better hours. Thank you very much,” Dylan complains.</p>
<p>“Maybe it’s not from Jonny,” Pat corrects but he knows the comment is futile, not only because Dylan won’t believe it but because he doesn't believe it himself.</p>
<p>The box is definitely from Jonny. </p>
<p>Dylan scoffs as he turns around to leave Pat’s bedroom. “Right, sure. It’s not from Jonny.”</p>
<p>Just as he’s about to close Pat’s door and as Patrick is reaching towards the box to grab it and pull it closer, Dylan looks at Pat over his shoulder and says, “Also, don't think I didn't notice that you didn’t deny he’s your sugar daddy.” </p>
<p>And he closes his door behind himself as he leaves, his comment lingering in the air, conspicuous in all it’s intended conspicuousness. </p>
<p>Patrick tries to ignore the comment and put it out of his mind, and he finds it’s not that difficult when Jonny’s latest gift is right there waiting for him, taunting him and attracting all of his attention. </p>
<p>It’s even easier to forget all about Dylan and his perceptive, little comment when Patrick opens the black box up and peers at what’s inside. The assorted contents of it make him dizzy and turn his head around in just a second, his heart beating as quickly as if he had just finished playing three entire periods of a game and not like he’s just woken up from half a night of deep sleep. </p>
<p>He doesn't know what item to focus on first and his hands are hovering over the open box, as if afraid to reach inside. He doesn't know if he’s more afraid of reaching and seeing that everything’s truly real or trying to touch something and having the entire box just vanish into thin air. </p>
<p>The first thing he ends up reaching for is the soft pink butt-plug on the right far side of the box. It’s small, the smallest object in the box by far, but its color is what makes it the most appealing to Pat. The color calls for innocence, for sweetness, and for timidity, but there’s nothing innocent, sweet or timid about why Jonny sent this box to Patrick. </p>
<p>Pat looks at each item one by one, reverently pulling them out of the box to feel their texture, to learn their shape, to test their weight. </p>
<p>There’s a red dildo, big but smaller than Jonny’s dick is, because of course Patrick’s brain would immediately compare its size to Jonny’s. </p>
<p>There’s a black butt-plug, wider and longer than the pink one but less pretty, in Patrick’s opinion. </p>
<p>And finally, there’s a white and purple vibrator, the sleekest and most-modern looking of all the objects. It looks nothing like a sex toy is supposed to look like and yet it couldn't be confused with anything else. It comes with a small remote control and Pat finds the instructions for it buried underneath handfuls of ruffly paper that only serve to make the contents of the box look more aesthetically packaged. </p>
<p>The last things Patrick finds inside the box are two big bottles of lube, the brand unknown to Patrick but quite obviously more expensive than anything he’s ever indulged in for sex. </p>
<p>Patrick wants to try everything immediately and he wants Jonny to want him to try everything immediately. That’s why he wastes no time preparing himself, doing so methodically but quickly, more about the practicality of it than the pleasure it could bring him. </p>
<p>He wants himself loose enough to fit the butt-plug inside his hole, tucked in to its base, the small cute heart at the base sticking out of his butt perfectly. </p>
<p>It takes some contorting and some awkward bending but Patrick manages to take a perfect picture of his hole and the plug holding him open. He’s not in the habit of praising and admiring himself but he tries to look at the picture through the eyes of someone who desires him, he tries to look at it through Jonny’s eyes and he can admit that it’s a sensual and alluring picture. </p>
<p>Jonny’s immediate reaction after Pat sends it confirms Pat’s thoughts. </p>
<p><b>Jonny [7:35AM]: </b> <em> SKYPE! NOW! </em></p>
<p>Patrick smirks at the text and grabs his computer, turning it on and opening Skype immediately as he sets down on his stomach, pushing onto his knees a little bit so his ass sticks out. </p>
<p>He picks up Jonny’s call only a minute later and Jonny already looks wrecked, like one simple picture from Patrick has managed to undo him completely, to rattle him and ignite him in the wildest of ways. </p>
<p>“Baby,” Jonny groans upon seeing Pat. </p>
<p>He’s holding his laptop close to his face, so Pat can see his widened pupils and the plumpness of his red lips, like Jonny’s been biting at them for centuries. </p>
<p>“Turn around, please, I need to see your sweet, little hole. Please, baby,” Jonny begs and Patrick feels heady with all the power he holds over Jonny.</p>
<p>It’s not surprising that people that hold positions of power turn greedy and just want more, more, more. Patrick’s had a little taste of what having Jonny is like and he finds himself wishing for it all, for the whole experience. He wishes for Jonny in every way he can have him, he wishes for Jonny in all ways he can get him. He should feel content with what he’s got but he’s turned greedy and he just wants, more, more, more. </p>
<p>Corruption lies in the heart of men, Patrick thinks, and he feels the need to be corrupted by Jonny and to corrupt him right back. </p>
<p>Pat gets on his hands and knees and he turns around, his ass facing the camera now. </p>
<p>“Patrick,” Jonny growls and Pat’s spine sizzles at the sound. “Show me.”</p>
<p>Pat balances his weight on his elbows so his hands are free to reach back and hold his cheeks apart, exposing his hole to Jonny’s eyes. </p>
<p>“So beautiful, so pretty,” Jonny praises, making Pat blush, pressing the side of his face to the mattress to hide a bit. “This was your favorite right, baby? Pretty like you. It was my favorite too.”</p>
<p>Before the clock hits 10AM Pat’s come three times for Jonny. </p>
<p>Once, on his fingers at Jonny’s instructions, using the fancy lube Jonny chose for him. Another time using the pink plug, the delay of his orgasm due to the plug being short and not all that great to thrust into himself, both frustrating and incomparable. </p>
<p>Lastly, he comes for the third time with the sleek-looking vibrator deep in his ass, his hands by his sides and Jonny playing with the settings through an app on his phone. It’s the first time Jonny’s been able to actually control Pat’s orgasm, the first time he hasn't needed Patrick to follow his commands because he can do things himself. </p>
<p>The realization must be as startling for Jonny as it is for Pat, because he ends up coming so hard he streaks his own cheeks with white drops of his come. </p>
<p>It’s the hottest thing Pat has ever seen and, if he wasn’t so spent, he thinks he would use his brand new red dildo to fuck himself through one more orgasm. </p>
<p>Instead, Pat lies on his side, facing the laptop, as Jonny does the same, and together they come down from their highs, eyes sleepy and smiles bright. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Patrick’s turned greedy and he wants more, more, more. He wishes for Jonny in every way he can have him, he wishes for Jonny in all ways he can get him. </p>
<p>But the way in which he wants Jonny most is simple and yet so complicated. </p>
<p>He wants Jonny for real: skin to skin, lips to lips, body to body. </p>
<p>He wants Jonny face to face, without the constraints and limits of a phone or a computer. </p>
<p>He wants Jonny to want him in the same way and he waits impatiently for Jonny to say so. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>_____________________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alex knows a guy who is dating a girl, who is friends with another girl, who has a cousin that works at a retail store and who gets Pat an interview with her manager, even though Pat knows zero about fashion or clothes and he’s never worked in a clothing store before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick isn’t too happy about the idea, and the mere thought of going back to balancing being a full-time college student and having a part time job -plus all his other social responsibilities- is daunting and terrifying. It’s been a couple of months of his parents paying for his part of the rent for the apartment, though, and Pat can’t let that keep happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he squares up his shoulders, wears the only dress pants he owns with a light blue shirt that Jonny gifted him for the interview, and charms the fuck out of the store’s manager in under 30 minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not something Pat is necessarily a natural at, socializing and interacting with people, but he’s good at it thanks to years and years of practice. He’s not a born-leader, not a charismatic person that people would follow at first glance, but he’s good enough at inspiring loyalty in people after a while by being genuine and true. He knows when to smile, he knows how to make people comfortable and he definitely knows how to sell himself both humbly and confidently so that other people don’t doubt that they want to stick close to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He exits the store in a mall in downtown Chicago feeling confident in the fact that he’s got the job pretty much locked down. The manager had told him that she would call him to inform him of her decision after the weekend had passed, but Pat feels sure enough about it that he texts his mom, Dylan, Alex and Jonny a celebratory text. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Throughout the rest of his afternoon he receives happy and tentative congratulatory responses from Dylan, his mom, and Alex -in that order- but Jonny’s reply doesn’t come, at least not at the speed that Pat has grown used to when talking to Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s been acting weird for days now - Jonny that is. He’s been acting weird since Pat told him about his job interview at the store, actually, and Patrick is confused, hurt and mad, all at the same time and to their full extent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve been through issues like this before, moments where they've had to remind the other and themselves of the importance of communication, especially in a relationship like theirs, that relies solely on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat feels both like he did something wrong -even though he can’t tell exactly what- that he wants Jonny to forgive him for and like Jonny did something wrong that Pat just wants him to apologize for. But every time Pat has asked him about it Jonny has denied that anything’s wrong and he has tried to carry on like everything’s normal and fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s patience runs thin as the hours pass and Jonny doesn't text him back or call him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s a mess during his hockey practice that evening, fumbling his passes and missing the net, all because he can’t keep Jonny out of his head. It angers him even more, boiling his blood until he can almost feel the rage pouring out of him and fueling his game, but not in a good way. Hockey is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>time, the one thing he's loved consistently, the only thing in his life that he’s always kept for himself, through good and bad times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny has seeped through every pore of him and he’s made a home for himself in every aspect of Patrick’s life, even hockey. And Patrick has loved that since the beginning, he's loved feeling like Jonny is the only person ever with whom he could be as open and sharing as he's been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But taking hockey away from him? Consuming his thoughts so deeply that he doesn't leave space in Pat’s mind for it?  It’s as unacceptable as Jonny’s silent treatment has been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s that anger that finally drives him to confront the issue head-on when Jonny finally texts him back that night as he’s having dinner with Dylan in the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The message is simple and short, no warmth to it whatsoever. It doesn't even feel like it was Jonny -</span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jonny- who sent it and, for a minute, that moves Patrick’s feelings from anger towards sadness. </span>
</p>
<p><b>Jonny [8:05pm]:</b> <em><span>Congrats.</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay, man?” Dylan asks him, making Pat try to school his expression again so it won’t show every single emotion he’s got running deep inside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat shrugs his shoulders as he moves the hand in which he’s holding his phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just Jonny being weird,” Pat answers, bringing one more bite of food towards his mouth so he won’t be tempted to rant all about the situation to Dylan right there and then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan nods as he gets up and leaves his plate in the sink, then walking closer to Pat again to clap his hand over Pat’s left shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relationships, dude,” he says, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly and making Pat chuckle. “If you need to talk about it I’ll be in my room trying but failing to study.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves Pat alone in the kitchen after Pat nods at him in acknowledgement, throwing a bubbly little wave over his shoulder as he walks out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat takes his time finishing his meal, using the solitude and relative silence of the kitchen to gather his thoughts and prepare all his words for the conversation that is to come. He can’t -and he won’t- let things go unexplained any longer, no matter how much Jonny seems to want that to be the case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Communication,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Patrick thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Communication is the key to make this work. And I want this to work.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks into his room after he finishes his dinner and cleans up after himself with his cellphone already raised to his ear, Jonny’s number selected and the dial tone beeping away. There’s a possibility, Pat knows, that Jonny could ignore his call, but if there’s one thing Pat knows above all else in the world is that, as long as Jonny is available to talk, he will always pick up when he sees Patrick is calling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dial tone beeps two more times and then Jonny picks up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Pat,” he greets, and his voice sounds subdued, like he already knows what the conversation will be about. It must not have been difficult for him to figure out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Congrats</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Pat quotes back at him. “Is that all you’re going to say to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny sighs quietly, resigned, and Pat now definitely knows that Jonny was expecting this, was expecting Pat’s vocal displeasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say?” Jonny asks and Pat scoffs at the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me?” Patrick asks back, throwing himself back onto his bed, his movements forceful, full of the angering fuel that’s been keeping him going for days now. “Literally anything else. You’ve been acting like an asshole for days and then I tell you I got a job and you act even more like an asshole.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Jonny rushes to say. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have taken things out on you like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So it’s not even about me? You’ve just taken things out on me for the fun of it?” Pat asks and three seconds after he’s asked the questions the other end of the line is still silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence is pretty much an answer all in itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Pat exhales, his heart sinking. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Pat,” Jonny repeats but Patrick interrupts him before he can keep going with his apology. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why the fuck haven’t you said anything then?” Patrick questions him, running his free hand through his curls frustratedly. “Why not just talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t want us to fight,” Jonny admits and Pat’s lips purse as he nods in fake agreement even though Jonny can’t see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, this totally relaxed conversation is so much better,” Pat says, his tone quite obviously a sarcastic mockery of Jonny’s reasoning. “Great plan, there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m—” Jonny starts saying but Pat interrupts him once again, this time even more quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, yeah. You’re sorry, you’ve said that,” Patrick says, tugging on his curls a couple of times in frustration before letting his hand fall by his side. “I know you’re sorry but what I want to know is this big thing you’ve been an asshole about that you think will get us fighting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s anger is ploddingly deflating, consequence of finally talking candidly and honestly with Jonny after so many days of deflections, and also consequence of a small worry growing within him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny wouldn't worry about something turning into a fight between them if something couldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn into a fight between them. It makes Patrick tense up and makes him regret for about five seconds having told Jonny that he wants to know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But ignorance isn't bliss and so Patrick repeats, mustering all the confidence he can so his voice sounds steady, “I want to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s about your job,” Jonny finally says and it sounds like a confession, like something Jonny is shameful about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My job?” Pat asks, confused and a little disoriented, Jonny’s answer the last thing he could have ever predicted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to work there, Pat,” Jonny continues explaining, but instead of clarifying things for Patrick his words just bring forth more questions and more perplexity. “Actually, I don't want you to work anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s question is short and abrupt but it’s full of feeling. It speaks clearly of his bewilderment, bewilderment that would be made even more clear to Jonny if he could see Patrick’s face. It’s set in a pronounced frown, his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together. Jonny’s unexpected declaration had caused Pat to sit up in bed, his legs stretched before him and his free hand fisting his comforter for some kind of grounding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t understand,” Pat says as his eyes peer around his room as if searching for an explanation that he can make sense of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never made a secret of it, Pat. I’ve always said I didn't like how you killed yourself on jobs while studying, and having hockey, and worrying about your future…” Jonny explains further, and although the words are true and not new to him, they're still confusing to Pat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah but that was with the temporary jobs. I mean…Jonny—” Pat interrupts himself and tries to compose his thoughts better but he fails to do so. “I don’t understand. I mean… I need to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you?” Jonny voices, his voice quiet and soft, like his question is a secret only he and Pat can know about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time stops as Patrick finally grasps the meaning of what Jonny is saying, as he finally fits all the pieces of the puzzle together, an uncomplicated puzzle that Pat was just viewing backwards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want you and I want to take care of you,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonny…” Pat tries to say but his voice catches in his throat and he has to cough to clear it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we going to fight?” Jonny asks and he sounds small, so hesitant and almost afraid. It’s unnatural to hear him like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick closes his eyes to ponder about it and he’s surprised to realize that the answer to Jonny’s question is simple and quick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, we’re not going to fight,” Patrick reassures him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The telephone line crackles lightly as Jonny sighs in relief on the other end of it. There’s so much that Patrick can sense in that one sigh, so much released tension that Patrick realizes Jonny’s been carrying around for days. It soothes Patrick to know that Jonny can finally relax a little, can finally bring his shoulders down and let his eyes close in alleviation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He speaks gently when he talks next, not wanting to stress Jonny again but needing to make something clear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you know what my answer is, Jonny.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You also said no at first to me helping you with the computer and to me buying you some stuff,” Jonny points out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick laughs shortly at the comment, shaking his head in astonishment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Jonny, but then you weren't talking about like… Paying me. Paying me money like a job would,” Pat says, still shaking his head. He laughs again at the absurdity of the situation, at the pipe-dream that his life has become. “Because that’s what you’re talking about, right? Paying me so I don’t have to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jonny simply confirms. “That’s what I want us to discuss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not discussing anything, Jonny. I can’t accept that, it’s… It’s crazy. You— You can't pay me like I’m— Like, I’m a—” Pat stumbles over his words, unable to finish his sentences, his hands now shaking as they grip onto his phone and the sheets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pat, hey, Pat.” Jonny’s voice pulls Pat back to Earth, succeeding at bringing him out of his rushing and tumbling thoughts. “Whatever it is that you’re thinking, I can promise you it’s not what this is about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t— I can’t, Jonny, I can’t. No,” Patrick echoes again and again, his mind stuck on those words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that I will always respect your wishes, Pat. I made the mistake of not doing it once and it won’t ever happen again,” Jonny promises. “But… I think we should talk about this more. It’s a big thing and I don’t think we should be discussing this on the phone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think we should be discussing this on the phone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thousand of messages, hundreds of minutes spent on the phone, thousands of pictures, hundreds of days since that first message on a stupid sugar daddy app. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we should talk about this in person,” Jonny states, and no matter how this moment has come Patrick can never regret that it’s happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s waited so long, ached for it, dreamt of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I take you out, Pat?” Jonny asks him, his voice the sweetest it has ever sounded while talking to Pat. “Can we finally meet each other?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat bites his bottom lip and shuts his eyes firmly to keep the tears from escaping. He must not have realized how deep the tension was also coursing through him for the past few days because his body feels untethered now, like it’s been cut from some very tight restraints. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat hasn’t been able to sort through the ups and downs of this conversation yet, but he knows his answer to Jonny’s question like he knows his own name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s known for a while now, he’s well past the point of telling Jonny no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s not like he would even want to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Jonny, you can. You can take me out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_____________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They have to plan their first meeting quickly, so quickly that Pat almost doesn’t even have time to realize it’s actually happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat had let Jonny know that he’d be hearing back from the manager of the store on Monday and, being Thursday, that left them with only three days to potentially meet and discuss things. In less than fifteen minutes after their phone call, Jonny had been able to make reservations for some restaurant Pat has never heard of for Saturday night, so that means Pat has approximately 48 hours to fret, anxiously talk Dylan’s and Alex’s heads off, imagine the thousand and one ways in which the meeting can go very wrong and stare blankly at the wall as his brain tries to process all of its thousand emotions at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The excitement grows inside Patrick slowly, filling him up until he feels like he’s leaking it through every pore of his body, until he’s sure any satellite orbiting the Earth would be able to spot him easily, the radius of the brilliance of his smile millions of miles long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s excitement that doesn’t surprise him because it’s been a part of him for months now, since he started talking to Jonny, really. Excitement describes the feeling of receiving a new text from Jonny, it also describes the feeling of being allowed inside Jonny’s life through pictures and phone calls, and it definitely speaks of getting to know Jonny more and more each day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s excitement that Patrick cherishes and that makes him look anxiously at the clock, willing its hands to go just a bit faster so that the moment will finally arrive, so that Jonny will finally be in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But for how short 48 hours can sometimes seem, they’re long enough for that excitement to be buried under dunes of other, less pleasant feelings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s the obvious fact that Pat can’t get out of his mind, the reason why Jonny and him are finally meeting after so many months where both of them had been careful to not propose the plan in a too rushed manner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat doesn’t doubt that Jonny had been dying to meet him just as much as he had been dying to meet Jonny, but there’s no denying the fact that what finally pushed him to ask Pat to meet in person wasn’t the uncontrollable anticipation to see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Actually, I don't want you to work anywhere.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>What’s</span> <span>Patrick supposed to do with that? What is he supposed to think, to say, to want, to feel, to need?</span></p>
<p>
  <span>All that Patrick knows is he doesn't know what to think, he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know what he wants, he doesn't know how he feels and he doesn't know what he needs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, not all of those things are entirely true. Pat </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> know what he wants and what he needs. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jonny. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But are his want and his need strong enough for what Jonny wants and needs of him? He believes Jonny with all of his heart and soul when he says that he’ll always accept any answer Patrick gives and any decision Patrick makes about anything and everything, but just because Jonny’ll accept something doesn't mean their relationship can survive that decision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their relationship. Their tender, blooming and ever-growing relationship. A relationship that Patrick denied for so long, to the point where even Dylan saw the direction it was heading in before he did. A relationship that has been limited to the confines of their phones for so long and that now, finally, will be explored outside of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A relationship that could end before it has the opportunity to ever truly show its full potential. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick is trying to think as rationally and as objectively as he can, and he’s aware that his decision can’t be influenced in any way by a fear of losing Jonny and what they’ve got. Firstly, because he knows Jonny wouldn't want him to do it, but more importantly, because then Patrick would have lost all sense of who he is and, in doing so, Jonny would have lost him too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But for how short 48 hours can sometimes seem, these 48 hours are the longest of Patrick’s life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour and a half before Pat is set to meet Jonny, he receives a text-message from him. His heart stops in his chest for half a second, the world dimming and darkening around him at the threat of a rescheduling, cancelation, or something worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>These 48 hours might have been long for Jonny too, long enough for him to rethink things entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the preview of the text promptly dissipates those thoughts and worries for Pat and he unlocks his phone quickly to read the message in its entirety. </span>
</p>
<p><b>Jonny [6:30pm]:</b> <em><span>You’re about to receive a package. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to but I thought I’d give you the option. Also, a car will pick you up at 7:45 to take you to the restaurant. I can’t wait to see you, Pat ❤️</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>The package arrives on the dot, less than a minute after Patrick reads Jonny’s text. It’s an expensive looking box, like most of the boxes Pat’s received from Jonny. It’s maroon and the name of a brand is written on the front in black, fancy, cursive letter, some Italian word that Pat has no idea what it means or how to pronounce but sounds elegant and important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan and Alex are in the living room, watching some sort of dog movie and munching on popcorn as they leave kernels all over the sofa every time one of their fistfuls of food doesn't all end up in their mouths. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude,” Dylan says, prolonging the first vowel, his eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex drops the handful of popcorn he had just grabbed, wiping his greasy hand on his sweatpants and pausing the movie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick stays rooted on the spot, holding the box in his arms and looking at Dylan and Alex as they look back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Alex asks. “C’mon, bring it over, let’s see what it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets up from the couch as Patrick approaches, Dylan doing the same and hastily cleaning the coach with a couple sweeps of his hand, popcorn and kernels falling to the floor to be cleaned at an indeterminate time in the future. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat carefully sets the box down on the couch, moving slowly and with trepidation even though he knows there’s nothing truly fragile inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan nudges him on the ribs when Pat’s spent a few seconds too long just looking at the intimidating box, so Pat takes a deep breath and opens the package up mindfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has to move aside a few layers of tissue paper to reveal what lies inside, and when he does, Dylan gasps dramatically and repeats, “Dude.” with the same feeling as before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beautiful, metallic-blue suit is perfectly folded inside the box, its fabric soft to the touch when Patrick lightly runs the tip of his index finger through the lapel of the jacket. He takes the jacket out of the box first under the interested gazes of Dylan and Alex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He places it with care completely extended on the back of the couch, marveling at the expensive look and feel of the item. Patrick’s never owned something this elegant before, something so obviously made to be worn to important events and lavish places. All of the suits Patrick has ever worn have been a product of necessity and they were always either handouts or cheap ones that would just simply do the trick for a day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is completely the opposite of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pants feel just as nice when Patrick takes them out of the box and sets them down next to the jacket. He peers inside of the box again to see there are two more things in it: a white, slim button-down, and a simple and black bowtie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking at the tag inside of the shirt confirms that the clothes are all perfectly in Pat’s size, because this isn’t the first time Jonny’s sent clothes to him, although it is the first time he’s sent him something so obviously luxurious and expensive. Pat can’t find any tags or receipts that showcase how much all the outfit is worth, and he isn’t sure if he’s more relieved at not having to know, or worried he’ll ruin any of the pieces without even knowing how much money he’s destroying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of the clothes are out of the box now, placed on the couch and staring intimidatingly back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan’s second nudge to his ribs pulls him away from the staring contest with the suit, bringing him back to reality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaner, c’mon, you gotta try it!” Dylan encourages him, pushing him closer to the sofa, almost making him fall onto the clothes. Dylan smiles sheepishly in apology but his enthusiasm persists. “I’m sure you’re gonna rock it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick swallows with difficulty, his throat closing up at the idea of him not able to do justice to the clothes. These aren’t the kind of clothes Patrick normally wears, they’re so beyond his reach, so out of his league it’s not even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chanel vs Walmart</span>
  </em>
  <span> comparison but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chanel vs last rack of the street market</span>
  </em>
  <span> one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anyone who’s ever had the privilege of seeing Jonny will know how natural and fitting it is for him to dress in outfits like this. There’s something almost regal about him, an air of excellence that makes it seem like he was born for grand things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s gorgeous, and the suit he’s sent Patrick is gorgeous, and Patrick wonders if he’ll be enough to measure up to either of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, dude,” Alex’s soft voice calls, making Patrick turn towards him. “Stop freaking out, okay? You’re going to look great. Go take a shower and we’ll bring the clothes to your room so you can change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick goes through the motions of his next actions, not really fully in the moment, just completely lost in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shower doesn't relax him, and closing his eyes when he’s washing his hair makes him feel even more off-kilter. He scrubs away at his body methodically, not paying attention to what he’s doing or how he’s doing it. And then, a sudden thought flies into his head as he’s washing his lower body with his hands, making him halter his movements and tinting his cheeks redder than the heat from the shower could do.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How will Jonny’s hands touch him today? Will they </span>
  <em>
    <span>even</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch him? Will Jonny want to keep his distance from him or will he be as desperate to feel Pat’s body as Pat is to feel his? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick has to finish his shower quickly, before his hands or thoughts can wander too far and he won’t be able to look Jonny in the eye when they finally are face to face. It’s perhaps a little ridiculous to think that, after everything they’ve been through -everything they’ve done together and seen of each other-, thinking of Jonny as he showers makes Pat feel like he's breaking some kind of unspoken rule.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It might be the fact that this is the first time Patrick’s known that all of Jonny will be available to him in just a couple of hours. Before, it was real in the same way dreams are real: a part of you but not really, a reflection of your life but not truly. Now, it’s real in a way few things are: all-consuming and breathtaking, unimaginable and yet fully in-reach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Alex promised, Pat’s new suit is waiting for him on his bed when he walks into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist after the shower. He stands by the foot of the bed just looking at it, still a little in awe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat doesn't even know how to continue getting ready, he realizes as his hair drips water drops onto his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he should dry his hair first before he puts on this very costly suit, although he’s not sure there’s even a hairdryer in their entire apartment. He for sure has never used one before in all his years living here and he doubts Alex or Dylan have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, he decides to go for the least complicated option, and he towels his hair off until it’s only just damp before getting dressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every piece of the suit feels soft on his skin as he’s putting it on, and the touch of the fabrics raises the hairs on his legs and arms. The shirt fits him so perfectly it seems like it was made just for him. It sits comfortably on him while accentuating his shoulders and upper arms fantastically, never feeling restrictive but looking skintight somehow. The pants are, however, a little too tight on him, especially on his ass. No matter how much Patrick tries to make it work, there is no way for him to wear any of his boxers under the trousers without the shape of them showing through the fabric, so after serious consideration he decides foregoing any underwear is the only way to go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the longest it’s ever taken him to get ready, not even for just a date but for any kind of event at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He buttons up the shirt slowly, being very careful with the tiny buttons. He tucks the shirt into the pants meticulously so it won’t bunch up or crease. He leaves the jacket off as he moves to the bathroom to tame his hair, not putting any product on it but trying to make his curls sit properly on his head. He puts on the jacket and fights with the bowtie for fifteen minutes before he figures out how to properly tie it. He silently thanks the universe for the fact that he owns one pair of black shoes that aren’t sneakers that he can wear with the outfit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final result, when he looks in the full-length mirror he's got in his bedroom, makes him blink blankly at his reflection for more than twenty seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even Patrick himself can openly admit that he looks good. He looks more than good. He looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex’s and Dylan’s reactions when Patrick walks out of his room and into the living room corroborate this fact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, Kaner, you look so hot!” Dylan blurts out from his position lying down on the couch with his head on Alex’s lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex’s compliment is more understated than Dylan’s but just as meaningful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really do look great, Kaner,” he says, smiling encouragingly at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Super great!” Dylan reiterates, standing up from the couch and moving towards Patrick to hug him effusively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat wraps his arms around Dylan’s midsection, the side of his face squished against Dylan’s chest until Dylan takes a step back and separates from Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan’s opening his mouth to say something when the apartment’s intercom rings loudly, startling the three of them. Dylan and Pat immediately look towards Alex who rolls his eyes at them but gets up from the couch to check who’s calling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dylan smiles softly at Pat, his voice a little more subdued and gentle when he tells him, “Really, Pat, your man won’t know what hit him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the entryway Alex calls out, “Kaner, the car is here for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat looks at Dylan and Dylan looks back at him, a huge smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go get your sugar daddy, Pat,” Dylan says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick groans and he lets his head hang back at Dylan’s words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just had to go and ruin the moment, Stromer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_____________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick falters in his steps when he gets outside of his apartment’s building to find the car that’s waiting for him. A black Mercedes is parked illegally next to the curb and there’s a middle-aged man wearing what Pat has always thought of as a stereotypical chauffeur outfit standing next to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Kane?” he asks, and Pat can only nod in response, his mouth dry and his throat closed up in sudden nerves and discomfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man walks around the car and stops next to the right side backseat door, opening it up and gesturing with his other hand for Patrick to go inside. Pat steps into the car, finally finding his voice to thank the driver before he closes the door on Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat buckles his seatbelt automatically, the motion instinctive for Patrick every time he goes inside of a car. His hands start trembling as soon as he’s done with the action and he presses them by his sides, into the soft leather of the seat, caressing the fabric with his fingertips to trick his brain into focusing on that sensation instead of all the other overwhelming ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver’s side door slamming shocks Patrick, making him jump a little and guiding his gaze towards the front of the car even though all he can see is the driver’s profile. The man starts the car and then turns back slightly to be able to look at Patrick as he speaks to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll be at the address Mr. Toews gave me in about 10 minutes,” he announces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick nods, swallows and says, “Great. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the next ten minutes, the car smoothly sails through the streets of Chicago, twisting and turning and gliding effortlessly as Patrick stares unseeingly out the window. His body is still inside the car on its way to the restaurant, but his mind is already there, already set on just one thing and one thing only: Jonny, Jonny, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jonny</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The car comes to a stop a short time later, but Patrick only notices after the driver has already opened the door on his side and has cleared his throat to catch his attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re here, Mr. Kane,” the man says as he points with his hand towards the street and a set of wide windows that show the inside of an elegant restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick fumbles with the buckle of his seatbelt nervously, taking it off after two failed tries. He exits the vehicle, straightening his jacket and trying to smooth any possible creases from his pants with the palms of his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just ask for Mr. Toew’s table inside and they’ll lead you to it, Mr.Kane,” the driver instructs him, closing the back seat door and then nodding at Pat with his hands clasped in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Pat repeats, realizing it’s the only sentence he’s said to him since he picked Pat up at his apartment complex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least he’s been self-aware enough to be polite and grateful towards this man, because nothing would ever excuse him suddenly becoming the kind of asshole that feels superior for being driven around and treats the people around him like their lives mean nothing compared to his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The restaurant has someone stationed at the door that opens the door for Patrick when he’s making his way towards it, nodding at him politely and detachedly. Patrick thanks the worker and he readjusts the lapels of his suit jacket as soon as he steps foot inside, feeling so glad Jonny had the foresight of sending him a suit fitting for a place like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lighting inside the building is faint, no harsh shadows or contrasts, just a low, white glow that blankets the room in an intimate atmosphere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick walks hesitantly towards the woman who is standing behind a podium speaking softly on the phone as she writes something down on a thick notebook. His knees threaten to buckle with every step he takes but he makes it to his destination, stopping a polite five feet away as he waits for her to finish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello and welcome to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Les Nomades</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the woman greets him when she hangs up the phone. She’s smiling pleasantly at him and looking at him like she believes Pat could truly ever belong in a place like this. “Do you have a reservation, sir?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, yes, I do,” Patrick stammers. “Well, actually, I— I’m here for Mr. Toews’s reservation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His last sentence comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, and Patrick has to bite his bottom lip to stop more awkward words from leaving his mouth. He blinks nervously at the woman as she searches her book for something and then she points with her index towards something on one of the pages, smiles pleasantly at Patrick and walks around the podium to get closer to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Toews is already at your table for the night,” she confirms, beckoning Pat closer with a gesture of her hand. “If you’d please follow me I’ll take you to him, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick has to trot a little to keep up with the woman who, despite wearing dangerously looking high heels, is fast and agile as she steps around tables and chairs. She turns around every second or so to make sure Patrick is right behind him, aiming a radiant smile his way over her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The restaurant isn’t particularly big but the walk to the table feels like the longest Pat has ever had to take in his life. With every step that takes him closer to Jonny comes a memory of him and the time they've spent getting to know each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s every message and every phone call - from the sweet ones, to the sensual ones; from the superfluous ones, to the life-altering ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s every picture Jonny has sent him and every picture Patrick has sent back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can still remember the way his heart stopped the first time he saw Jonny’s face holding that stupid piece of paper with his name written on it as a greeting. It’s been months since then and, through those pictures, Pat has been able to feel like he’s been a part of Jonny’s life and Jonny has been a part of his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This route, however, is now taking him to Jonny’s life irremediably. No more parallel routes that intersect casually. No more sharing just a screen as each other’s worlds spin wildly out of turn. This is two planets finally meeting in orbit only to potentially merge into just one. This is a new universe forming to accommodate the two of them comfortably as they expand and expand into each other instead of apart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman stops abruptly in front of Patrick, making him almost bump into her back. She turns around and startles when she finds Patrick so close to her, so he takes a step back as he coughs and mutters an apology. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re here now, sir,” she says, her face resettling into her signature smile as she moves aside and clears Pat’s view of what’s behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jonny</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing tall, proud, handsome and real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny in his black, form-fitting suit, his body a few feet away from the table, like he had been making his way towards Patrick and the hostess before having been stopped in his tracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny, his eyes set on Patrick like Pat’s the most magnificent sight he’s ever set his gaze upon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in this moment, the first time that Pat’s and Jonny’s stares meet in person and assess each other with only air between them, nothing else matters at all. Not how they met and how they started talking. Not the times that communication has been difficult or the times they’ve disagreed over important or stupid stuff. Not the fact that sometime in the near future during this dinner they’ll have to discuss uncomfortable topics and face some harsh truths. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In this moment it’s just Jonny and Patrick. Patrick and Jonny. Face to face. Just a few feet apart. Together in a way they’ve never been before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s soft voice breaks the seeming silence that has settled around them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patrick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s an exhalation of his name, a pronouncement so deep and true it must have been brewing inside of Jonny for years and years, waiting for its time, waiting to strike Patrick down with its intensity and importance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patrick, I—” Jonny takes a step forward and then stops. “You’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I—” Pat finds himself at a loss of words as well, his brain incapable of focusing on anything that isn't the sight of Jonny. “Jonny.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s breathless vocalization of Jonny’s name changes everything. The significance of the moment hits Pat right in the chest, his heart no longer feeling like his own. It must impact Jonny enormously too because his eyes widen as his mouth opens lightly as if in shock, his posture growing taller, the air around him feeling thicker and more commanding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny takes the two steps that separate him from Pat with decision and Pat subconsciously leans his weight forward, anticipating having Jonny closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second Jonny’s arms wrap around his waist something settles within Patrick. It’s something deep inside him, something close to his heart, perhaps something that people with more talent and more brains than Patrick would beautifully describe as his soul, or his being, or his essence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick moves his arms automatically to wrap them around Jonny’s shoulders, squeezing as tightly as he can, feeling his chest meet Jonny’s until there’s not an inch separating them. Nothing could tear them apart, not another human, not a global catastrophe, not heaven itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick takes a deep breath and his nose fills instantly with the scent of Jonny. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His smell</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Patrick has grown used to Jonny’s smell on Jonny’s clothes -that first Blackhawks shirt Jonny sent him, the grey sweatshirt he received a couple of weeks later, sweatpants, pajamas- but this is completely different. This is Jonny’s smell on Jonny. It’s alive, it’s completely addictive. It’s new even though it shouldn’t be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Realizing there are new things to discover about Jonny -little secrets to unveil, cherish, and memorize- and also old things he’ll be able to put in new contexts is special, as special as realizing there are new things he can let Jonny learn about him as well, ways in which Jonny will now view him in a different light .  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today, there is a brand new person that Pat can be, an improved version of who he has been up until now. The person who has finally met Jonny and has been changed because of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat and Jonny separate slowly, disconnecting parts of their bodies one by one, as if trying to avoid going through withdrawal now that they’ve found out what touching the other feels like. They’re still standing close when their eyes meet again, Jonny’s hands still resting on Pat’s waist as he unleashes the full power of his evergreen smile upon Pat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Pat,” he says, tightening his grip on Pat’s waist and then loosening it. “Nice to meet you again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat chuckles, biting his bottom lip as his eyes lower to the floor before raising to meet Jonny’s gaze once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you again, Jonny,” Pat says, wetting his lips with his tongue quickly, watching as Jonny’s attention is easily caught by the movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They're thrown out of their private, little bubble by the sound of someone clearing their throats to the right of them. Jonny hastily drops his hands from Pat’s waist but he doesn’t step back to put more space between their bodies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat and Jonny turn their heads in synchrony to look at a waitress standing a few feet away from them, looking guilty and embarrassed, her cheeks and nose tinted a light pink. Pat wonders how long she’s been waiting for them to separate. Patrick hadn’t even noticed the hostess leaving them as they met and he sure hadn’t noticed someone else approaching them as they hugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, sirs, I’m—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl is clearly regretting having interrupted them but Jonny, in a display of his usual Jonny nature, reassures her by smiling at her sunnily and extending his hand to be handed the menus the waitress is holding in her hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you so much,” Jonny tells her. “We’ll be ready to order in a few minutes but could you bring us some water in the meantime?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl nods and says, “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back with that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s request was an obvious ploy to calm the girl and to give them some more alone time and Patrick is thankful for that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny places the menus on their table and he places himself behind one of the two chairs, separating it from the table and gesturing for Pat to sit. Pat does just so and he waits for Jonny to take his seatin front of him with his hands clasped and resting on the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Jonny sits and for a few seconds neither man says anything. They look at each other, eyes roaming and traveling, taking in the details that phone or laptop cameras can’t accurately capture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I haven’t told you yet but you look gorgeous,” Jonny says, and although Pat had thought similarly when looking at himself in the mirror, and Dylan and Alex had confirmed it for him, it means something different -something more important- coming from Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just glad you thought of sending this to me because I don’t think anything I own would be okay for a place like this,” Pat points out, turning his head left and right to get a better look at the restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might have picked the place just to have an excuse to see you wear that suit,” Jonny admits, shrugging his shoulders unapologetically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat shakes his head and he looks at Jonny through slightly squinted eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Devious,” he says, his voice low and teasing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The waitress arrives by their table once again, carrying a glass water bottle in a tray and setting it down on the table before opening it and pouring a glass of water for each of them. She leaves with a nod after Jonny tells her they still need a few more minutes, and then Pat and Jonny engage in conversation with the menus open in front of them, debating over what dishes to order.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Food and drinks get ordered quickly after they make their choices and then it’s just Pat and Jonny once again. Face to face, just a table between them. Together in a way Pat has been daydreaming about for so long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a little crazy that this is happening,” Pat says, sipping from his water glass just to have something to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? You mean being on a date with someone that you met on a sugar daddy app?” Jonny asks teasingly, his voice hushed even though there are no other patrons sitting close enough to them that could hear their conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat laughs airily. “Yeah, that too, I guess. But it’s more the you and I meeting thing that’s a little crazy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Jonny frowns at Pat’s comment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For a while I thought it wouldn’t happen. You took your sweet ass time asking me out,” Pat clarifies, and Jonny’s face clears of any confusion, his expression turning sheepish instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“No, yeah, I, um, I’m sorry about that,” Jonny says sincerely, grabbing one of Pat’s hands in his over the table, his thumb rubbing Pat’s knuckles comfortingly. “I wanted to, so badly. But at first I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Even when we started texting on our phones, I didn’t want to make you feel like that’s all I was pushing, for and I didn’t want to pressure you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat nods, understanding Jonny’s reasoning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about later, though?” Pat questions. “It’s even months and with everything we’ve—” Pat hesitates over the wording of the sentence, trying to explain clearly without having to be too explicit about it. “We’ve talked so much, we’ve done so much,… Pretty personal stuff, I would say. So, what then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny chuckles embarrassingly, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was just me being a coward,” Jonny laments. “I tried to work up the nerve so many times but something always held me back. I knew you would say yes but at the same time… What if you didn’t?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Impossible,” Pat denies and Jonny intertwines the fingers of their joined hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad I finally did, though,” Jonny admits, cocking his head to the side a little. “Even if the final push was having a difficult discussion face to face.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat squeezes Jonny’s hand, a little bit in warning but also just to feel more connected to him, to his trusted lifeline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we wait to talk about that? Can we speak about other things first?” Pat asks, praying that the answer will be yes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course,” Jonny concedes, nodding and returning Pat’s gesture with a gentle squeeze of his own to Pat’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean…” Pat starts, extending his legs so they touch Jonny’s under the table, reassured by the contact, in awe that a movement so simple can bring him even closer to Jonny now. “I want to know what Sharpy said when you told him we were meeting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny laughs loudly, the sound coming from deep within his chest, booming and echoing all around them. His laugh feels more joyous in person, as if the phone took away decibels and warmth from it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat pays close attention to Jonny as he speaks, detailing his conversation with Sharpy. He watches Jonny’s lips as they shape around the words he’s saying. He focuses his eyes on Jonny’s own eyes that never stray from Pat’s face. Once, Patrick lets his gaze trail down and he spends seconds watching Jonny’s Adam’s apple as it rises and falls every time he makes a sound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even when the waitress comes back carrying their first appetizer, Patrick doesn't stop watching Jonny. It’s addicting to know what he’s seeing is the real Jonny in its entirety and it’s even more addicting to know he can keep looking at him for as long as he wants. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the second appetizer has been brought out it’s Patrick who’s relating to Jonny how Dylan and Alex had reacted to him receiving the suit and wearing it. He feels completely confident and familiar as he speaks to Jonny. In that sense, nothing has changed despite meeting in person for the first time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat is in the middle of a sentence when Jonny scoops some food with his fork and brings it forward slightly towards Patrick, wordlessly indicating for him to take the bite. Pat stops talking, swallows harshly and looks Jonny in the eye as he opens his mouth and then closes his lips on the fork, taking the food into his mouth. He moves his head back very slowly, not letting go of the fork, his lips dragging against the metal as it exists his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s eyes are focused attentively on Pat’s mouth, and Pat takes his time tracing his lips with his tongue, as if savoring the taste of what he previously ate when, really, all he wants to do is keep Jonny’s gaze on him a little bit longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s been happening throughout the whole meal: Jonny’s eyes periodically find Pat’s mouth -as if it’s a magnet with an unavoidable pull for him- and Pat tempts him further, pushing the limits of what’s proper just to see Jonny’s eyes darken and his hands tighten around his utensils, like he’s restraining himself to the furthest limit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The umpteenth round of their game gets interrupted by the waitress coming to take the empty platter away and bringing over their main courses. Pat smiles at her as she deposits his food in front of him, immediately going back to looking at Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He goes to pick up his newly brought, clean utensils when Jonny says, “Wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat stops his hands as they hover over the fork and knife, frowning in confusion at Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s something I want to give you,” Jonny announces, leaning his body towards the right, his arm extending towards the floor, flapping a bit until it apparently finds what it’s looking for. He straightens up again, and now he’s holding a small white box in his right hand, a box Pat hadn't noticed had been on the floor next to them. “I forgot to give this to you before and I really can’t wait to see you wear it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes out a large, square velvet box from the bag, turning it around so it’s facing Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you like it,” he says as he opens the box and shows the gift to Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a beautiful gold chain, thin and so delicate looking. Patrick brings his hand to it, tracing the length of it with his index finger. It’s long enough that it would hide under the collar of any t-shirt Patrick owns, falling below his collarbones. It’s an understated piece of jewelry, discrete and simple but not plain. It truly is beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love it,” Pat exhales, his eyes returning to Jonny to catch the birth of a blinding smile from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Jonny asks, seeming reassured when Pat nods his confirmation. “Can I put it on you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick wasn't expecting the question although it seems obvious that Jonny would ask. He nods again, biting his lip in anticipation as Jonny pushes his chair back, standing up and walking around the table towards him. Pat pushes his chair away from the table too to make things easier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny places the velvet box on the table, carefully picking up the chain and opening its clasp. Pat turns around on the chair, his back to Jonny, waiting for Jonny to put the chain on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s movements are slow, and Pat can’t really see them happening behind him. Jonny’s arms come down on both sides of Patrick’s head holding the chain. He rests the chain against Patrick’s neck as it first bumps a little bit against the bowtie he’s wearing. Jonny’s hands are now grazing the nape of Pat’s nape, and when Jonny goes to close the clasp his fingers bump against it, making Pat’s skin raise in goosebumps and a bolt of electricity shoot straight down Pat’s spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chain goes looser around Pat’s neck, as if Jonny has let go of it completely, but Jonny’s hands stay where they are. Pat is holding his breath, excitedly expectant. His eyes are half-lidded and his hands are resting on his knees, gripping the fabric of his pants with his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of Jonny’s fingers sets on the nape of Patrick’s neck and starts tracing a path from left to right and then back again. Pat doesn't have time to even focus on it when Jonny starts doing the same with what must be the finger of his other hand, this time in opposite directions. Both fingers cross paths continuously right by Pat’s spine and he feels like every single nerve in his body fires up when that happens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, the sensation disappears and Pat turns abruptly to look at Jonny, who’s smirking down at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The food is gonna go cold,” he says, moving back towards his chair but not before lightly running his fingers down Pat’s neck one last time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick fidgets in his chair as he moves it closer to the table again. His suit pants don’t hide the obvious arousal that Jonny’s touch has provoked in him and Pat takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his heartbeat, his dick and his imagination. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks really good on you,” Jonny says, already seated back down opposite Pat. He points towards Pat and the chain, resting on his shirt, the contrast between the white of it and the gold of the necklace almost blinding. “But I think it will look better on you naked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick splutters and drops the fork he had been gripping, making Jonny laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate you,” Pat declares, glaring at Jonny and hating how he knows he must be blushing furiously at the moment, both embarrassment and frustration. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” Jonny confidently replies, offering a bite of the food he hasn’t even tasted himself yet to Patrick with his fork. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat keeps glaring at him but then softens his expression as he, once again, eats the offered food in the most erotic way he knows how. He takes pleasure in seeing Jonny fidget in his seat as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems Pat isn’t too bad at this game himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>_____________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat feels full by the end of the dinner, but when the waitress asks them if they’d like to see the dessert menu Pat nods enthusiastically at Jonny, making him chuckle and give his confirmation to the waitress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first bite of the Raspberry Chocolate Pavlova Pat ends up ordering makes his eyes roll back in pleasure and he hums delightedly. His mouth has never tasted anything more delicious and though he’s got the entire slice to enjoy still, he’s already feeling devastated at the thought of finishing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By his fourth bite of the cake Pat realizes he’s completely been ignoring Jonny, too focused on his dessert to pay attention to anything else. But as Pat looks up at Jonny as he swallows down some cake it’s pretty obvious Jonny’s attention hasn’t wandered away from Pat even for a second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enjoying the cake, eh?” Jonny asks, clearly amused, his Canadian accent thicker around the words than it’s been all night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat licks his lips and nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the best thing I’ve ever had,” he concedes. “What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick points to Jonny’s own dessert - a Lemon Cheesecake Mousse much smaller than Pat’s slice of cake- with his fork. Jonny looks down at it and shrugs, taking another spoonful of the food and bringing it over to his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Jonny says. “I wouldn't call it the best thing I’ve ever tasted, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too bad,” Pat replies, licking his spoon to get rid of any chocolate still in it as he looks Jonny deeply in the eyes. “You should have chosen this one, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny gulps, his spoon frozen in mid-air halfway to his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he says, his voice gruff and his eyes so dark Pat swear he can almost see his reflection perfectly in them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat doesn’t look away from Jonny as he eats the next two bites of his dessert and Jonny doesn't look away from him either. Their gazes are locked in the most intimate embrace Pat has shared with anyone. It’s not just about the desire they're feeling for each other -which is obvious and powerful all on its own-, but also about the connection that had already been established between them before tonight, about the way they can perfectly read what the other one is saying without words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny finishes his mousse before Pat finishes his slice of cake and as soon as his last bite has been swallowed Jonny’s entire demeanor changes, his facial expression hardening a bit while looking remorseful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat immediately knows what's coming. After all, he’s perfectly able to read what Jonny’s eyes are saying even without any words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s time to talk about it, right?” Pat guesses, and Jonny verifies this with a single nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to push it back more and make things more awkward when we finally have to discuss it, Pat,” Jonny explains, cleaning his mouth gracefully with his cloth napkin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, yeah, I get it,” Pat says, eating one more bit of cake, slowly chewing it and swallowing it. “I just… I don't know what else you want me to discuss or explain. You know why my answer is no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it took you a while to accept the gifts and everything but I feel like it’s working for us now, we’ve got a pretty good system,” Jonny points out. “What’s so different about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s so—” Pat stumbles over repeating the question back at Jonny, shocked by it. He drops his fork on the dessert plate next to the small piece of cake he’s still got to eat. “It’s very different, Jonny. Gifts are one thing. Yes, sometimes you go overboard with them but they’re just that: gifts. You’re talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>paying</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. Like, paying for my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it because you think I expect something for it? Because the same rules apply. It’s not that type of arrangement,” Jonny clarifies, looking earnest and serious, like he wants Patrick to understand this one thing perfectly well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat rolls his eyes, endeared and amused despite not wanting to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, believe me, I never thought you were asking me to be like… Like, your— I don’t know, like your prostitute,” Pat whispers, trying to casually look around to make sure no other patrons are paying attention to their conversation. “Is that offensive to say? Like, I’m not shaming prostitutes but I know that’s not what you’re asking of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, what’s the problem?” Jonny questions, opening up his palms in an inquisitive body movement. “I’m not paying you for sex, or your company, or anything, it’s—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat interrupts him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonny, we met in a sugar daddy app but I didn’t think that was what our relationship was going to be,” Pat says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to be. Or maybe it can be, but in our terms,” Jonny proposes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat frowns and shakes his head, signaling his confusion at Jonny’s comment. Jonny sighs and he pinches the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s willing his brain to work faster in its search for a good explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so, Pat… Are we dating?” Jonny inquires, the question perplexing Pat, who was not expecting the seemingly abrupt change of subject. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I—” Pat flounders to give an answer. “I don’t— I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we are,” Jonny counters back. “I think we have been in a relationship for months now. We didn't have the most conventional start but we’ve pretty much been behaving as if we were in a long-distance relationship for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, when you put it like that it sounds pretty simple,” Pat says, trying to keep from showing the way his heart is trying to burst out of his chest to place itself at Jonny’s feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no real surprise that Pat feels at Jonny’s statement because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> right, they have been pretty much dating for months now. But there is exhilaration at having it confirmed, and it’s strange how a simple acknowledgement can make everything so much more real. There’s no way to misinterpret things now, no half-known truths and half-shared realities. They're all in now. Together in every sense of the word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Together.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny extends his arms over the table to grab both of Patrick’s hands, bringing them to the center of the table so neither of them have to stretch uncomfortably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is simple, Pat. You and I, it’s simple. And so good,” Jonny says, his smile growing at his own declaration. “I want to be with you. Not just long-distance but in every way. Just… Together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Together</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too,” Pat confesses, his voice low but full of wonder. “I want that too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” Jonny says, squeezing Pat’s hands on his, his face shining, his happiness a drug Pat won’t ever be able to give up now that’s he’s seen it up close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that doesn't have to do with what we were talking about,” Pat comments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it does,” Jonny denies. “We’re in a relationship and I want to help you. Why can’t your boyfriend help you pay for stuff?·”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is the first time either of them has used the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>boyfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span> before and Pat resents that he can’t even enjoy it as it deserves to be enjoyed because he has to focus on making his points come across. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is not you taking me out and treating me to dinner, or us buying a house together,” Pat argues. “You say you don't want me to have to work but I need a job to pay for rent, for groceries, for transport, just… For life. Boyfriends don’t normally pay for all that stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good that this is our relationship and not anyone else’s, then,” Jonny says. “We can have both. I can be your boyfriend and I can pay for your stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to be my boyfriend and my sugar daddy?” Pat asks sarcastically, scoffing at his own question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, looking unbothered by the label and the idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that’s what you want to call it,” he states. He squares his shoulders, pushing them back and standing taller on his seat like he’s ready to go to war for this, like this is the battle of his life and he’s desperate to win it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pat, I want you to be happy,” Jonny says, intertwining his fingers with Pat’s and holding tightly onto his hands. “I don’t want you to have to worry about how you’re going to pay rent next month. I don’t want you to be tired because you only have 4 hours to sleep at night between classes, work, projects, studying, and hockey. I don’t want you feeling guilty because your parents will have to pay for your visit home on Christmas. I can help make your life easier, Patrick, and I’m your boyfriend so why wouldn't I do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat bites his bottom lip at Jonny’s words, his throat tight at the simple demonstration of affection by Jonny. The way he so casually cares for Patrick, the way he proves it in the smallest but most meaningful ways -how he watches his every move, how he listens to his every word, how he learns every single detail- … It never stops being a source of amazement. It never fails to punch Pat’s breath out of his lungs, leaving them filled just with wonder and gratitude for having found him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if we break up?” Pat asks, knowing his question shows the way he’s slowly starting to melt and mend, his stance not quite so rigid anymore. “I know that’s not great to ask because we just decided we’re dating a second ago but…  If I’m not working and I’m depending on you, how can that work? How can I ever be truly comfortable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll draft a contract,” Jonny answers him, the response quick, like he’s already thought about it. “It’s the most responsible thing. You won't depend on me deciding if I’m paying you or not because there’s a contract we’re following. I’ll make it legit, like if my business was paying you as an employee except they’re my funds and this is what I want to do with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat swallows, looking away from Jonny to try and clear his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so excited for what it means that we’re together. I’m so excited that I get to share your life with you. That we get to share our lives,” Jonny says, and his sentences sound like he's delivering the last arguments of his closing speech. “This is one more thing we can share.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes pass in silence and Pat’s mind runs through not only the conversation they've just had, but all the thousand of conversations they’ve had before it. It runs through millions of memories of him and Jonny but also of just himself, memories of what his life has been like up until today. The good, the bad, the in-between. His mind studies the pros and cons, it creates a hundred scenarios of how things could go wrong and how they could be solved. It doesn't stop working and by the end of his pondering Pat is left feeling like he’s just run a marathon while carrying a suitcase full of bricks in a hundred degrees heat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I care too much about you to leave you alone in this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no more being alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Together.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a way with words, you know that?” Pat breaks the silence, shifting his eyes so they’ll meet Jonny’s gaze again. “It’s unfair. I feel like you would have made a great team captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was, actually. When I played hockey,” Jonny says, looking unbearably proud. “But does this mean…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny doesn’t let himself finish the sentence, as if he’s afraid that if he says it out loud Patrick will change his mind and take his words back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means I better have a say in writing the contract,” Pat concludes, hoping his voice comes out sounding as confident as he wants it to. “I want to make this as perfect as possible. It’s about more than just the money, Jonny, it’s about us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there it is again, Jonny’s smile. So captivating, so unfairly disarming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Us,” Jonny echoes, making the word sound like the most important one in the history of the entire universe. No other being in the world has ever used it before them, no other being in the world could truly understand the significance of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dylan is going to be so fucking smug about this. He was right in the end about you being my sugar daddy,” Pat comments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And boyfriend,” Jonny corrects and Pat laughs airily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, sugar daddy </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> boyfriend,” Pat agrees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Dylan should first worry about his own thing with Alex before he worries about anyone else’s relationship, right?” Jonny comments cheekily and Pat bursts out laughing at the unexpectedness of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, please, tell him that when you meet him, please,” Pat begs him, making their still joined hands bounce up and down on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny chuckles, stopping the movement of their hands so they can rest calmly against the table again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything for you,” he replies, and although his voice is light and casual Pat knows he means the words entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Pat pronounces, prolonging the vowel in the word for a second. “Now that you’ve accomplished your devious plan of keeping me in riches forever as your personal catamite, can I finish my dessert?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny lets go of just Pat’s right hand so he’ll be able to grab his spoon while still keeping them connected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you even know what the world catamite means?” Jonny asks, looking at Pat with a raised eyebrow. </span>
  <span>Patrick doesn't wait to have his mouth empty to respond, “Hey, asshole, I’m college educated, I know words like catamite and shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And shit,” Jonny says, his tone clearly mocking Pat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I was going to ask if now that all the difficult stuff is resolved you were going to take me to your house, to finally do to me all the things you’ve been promising for months,” Pat says. “But I don’t think I want to anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s hand tenses in Pat’s hold, as does his body, the tension it suddenly carries unmissable to Pat’s eyes. His eyes have darkened again, the intensity of them scorchingly hot. Pat feels his body light up in response like he’s the cigarette and Jonny is the match. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patrick…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat is conditioned to respond to his full name on Jonny’s lips now, his brain and his body surrendered to Jonny and his desires, to Jonny and his commands. To Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat finishes chewing the last piece of cake, swallowing, licking his lips to clear any trace of the chocolate from his mouth and, finally, pushing the empty plate away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me home, Jonny,” Pat implores, his hands shaking a little at the importance of this moment. He’s been waiting for this for so long and he doesn’t think he can survive another minute without it. “Please, take me home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not even two minutes later, Jonny’s signing the credit card receipt, thanking the waitress for her service and helping Pat out of his chair, his arm wrapped around Patrick’s waist as they walk out of the restaurant towards Jonny’s car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>  _____________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s house is 20 minutes away from the restaurant and Pat spends the entire ride over in Jonny’s car with Jonny’s hand high on his thigh and his heart in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anticipation is building up inside him, although only minutes before Pat wouldn’t have believed more anticipation would have been able to fit in his body. It’s been growing inside him for months now, getting bigger and strengthening, looping itself around Pat’s ribs and sneaking its way into his lungs, making his chest feel tight at the mere sight of Jonny and his breathing grow erratic at the sole sound of Jonny’s voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now, with Jonny closer than he’s ever been to him, Pat feels ready to shed his skin, leave his bones behind and crawl inside of Jonny forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s brain manages to stop thinking about Jonny for two seconds to focus its attention on the white house that Jonny is pulling up to with his car. The house is narrow but tall, three stories high, wide windows in each of the floors that must make the inside luminous during the day. It’s one of the most luxurious houses Pat has seen in his life and it’s definitely going to be the most luxurious one Pat is ever going to step foot in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny maneuvers his car expertly into the garage, stopping the engine once they’re inside, the automatic door closing behind them, casting them into darkness as the car’s lights have turned off and the garage’s lights aren’t yet on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s eyes slowly grow used to the dark, Jonny’s silhouette getting clearer to his left. Jonny is looking straight ahead, his eyes still focused on the windshield as if the drive hadn't ended yet and he still needed to keep all of his concentration on the road. His hand tightens on Pat’s thigh almost imperceptibly if not for the fact that Pat’s nerves are singing everywhere Jonny is touching him. Jonny’s hand starts moving gradually towards the inside of Pat’s thigh instead of staying on top of it, and Pat gulps, keeping still, dying to know where Jonny’s touch will go to next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to be good and say I’ll be showing you around now, but Pat…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s voice is nothing more than a whisper, a hint of its usual volume. It’s the roughest Pat has ever heard it sound, husky and scratching Patrick from the inside out, leaving marks in places Jonny hasn't even set his hands to yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to touch you. I need to touch you now,” Jonny states, turning on his seat and looking at Pat through the layers of dark, desperation and passion. It’s impossible to see the color of Jonny’s eyes but the ardor in them is unmistakable even in the low lighting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is a prelude to how Jonny makes love -giving all of himself away, focusing completely on the other person, awakening part in you you didn’t even know existed- and Pat shudders, his body and his mind already tuning themselves to Jonny’s body and mind perfectly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat hears a whimper escape his own lips and Jonny’s hand twitches where it’s resting on his thigh, probably having felt Pat’s dick grow inside his pants at his words. Jonny’s pinky extends, now grazing Pat’s dick through the fabric of his pants, and Pat’s hips lift a few inches out of the seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Patrick moans, his need spilling out of him already, impossible to hide in such close quarters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s eyes have fallen shut without him even noticing it, but they fly open when he feels Jonny’s hand grab the back of his neck roughly, pulling his head away from the back of the seat and closer towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a moment of pause, a millisecond or less where Jonny stops guiding Pat towards him and Pat’s upper body hovers awkwardly above the center console. It’s not hesitation on Jonny’s part, not really, and it’s definitely not hesitation on Pat’s end either. It’s more a moment of appreciation, a breath that allows them to look into each other’s eyes and acknowledge their position, their progress and their future possibilities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the calm before the storm, the breathless realization right before everything changes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the world starts spinning again and Jonny’s lips meet Patrick’s for the first time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s wild from the very beginning, no first tentative touch or moment of acclimatization. It’s Jonny and Patrick going all in, pedal down, eyes closed, no control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s lips are soft against Pat’s but his stubble is rough against Pat’s cheeks and chin. Jonny is a slow but deep kisser, his tongue teasing Pat’s lips, tracing the outline of them and then slipping inside his mouth lightly, the tip of it touching Pat’s own tongue and then retreating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat makes a whiny noise from the back of his throat and Jonny chuckles against his lips but finally gives Patrick what he wants, his tongue entering Pat’s mouth and tangling itself with Pat’s tongue. Jonny touches Pat’s upper palate with the tip of his tongue, the sensation a little ticklish for Pat, who sucks Jonny tongue further into his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only noises that can be heard inside the car are Pat’s and Jonny’s labored breathing, and the wet and smacking sound of their lips moving in synchrony over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s hand moves from Pat’s neck to the back of his head, his fingers burying themselves in Pat’s curls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny starts pulling away from their kisses, his lips capturing Pat’s tongue between them and slowly letting it go as their mouths separate. Patrick chases his mouth desperately but Jonny uses his grip on Pat’s hair to yank his head back, the tug strong enough to hurt a little. Pat moans loudly, the noise unobstructed now that Jonny’s mouth is not in his, his right hand moving towards his crotch to rub the back of his wrist against his dick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to take you to bed now,” Jonny announces, tugging at Pat’s hair one more time before letting go and exiting the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The walk to Jonny’s bedroom is short and Pat remembers nothing from it. Jonny’s holding his hand and walking in front of him to guide him, and Pat’s eyes never once stray from Jonny’s back and ass in his suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The minute they walk inside of what Pat assumes is Jonny’s bedroom, Jonny turns around, facing Pat once more, taking the small step that separates his body from Patrick’s and pressing them flush against each other. Jonny’s right hand drops Pat’s so that it can join his left one in holding Pat’s waist under his suit jacket. Jonny pulls Pat’s hips forward, connecting their lower bodies and undulating his hips maddeningly to run his dick against Pat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to do anything tonight, Pat,” Jonny says as his hips still move against Pat’s, his eyes half-lidded in obvious pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing is, Patrick knows Jonny absolutely means his words, and if Pat had a sudden change of heart at any minute during their time together Jonny would pull away immediately, checking to see what Pat needed from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no one in the world Patrick has ever trusted more than he trusts Jonny, and so Patrick gives him the last part of him he hadn't been able to totally surrender to him still: his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat goes onto his tiptoes so his crotch is better aligned with Jonny’s and presses forward, rocking arrhythmically until he finds the spot in which to keep pushing so his dick bumps against Jonny’s perfectly so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck that. I need you to fuck me tonight or I’m gonna die,” Pat says, feeling like his hyperbole might not be such a hyperbole at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems to be the last confirmation Jonny needs because the pace of his movements increases rapidly, his actions much more purposeful and his touches much more guided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s suit jacket ends up on the floor, neither him nor Jonny caring about the proper way to care for good clothing at the moment. His bowtie also ends up discarded carelessly but his shirt proves to me a more difficult matter. Pat and Jonny have to stop kissing so Jonny can fully focus on opening the small buttons with his big fingers, but as soon as the front of the shirt is open Pat dives back into Jonny’s mouth. The shirt falls at Pat’s feet and Pat’s bare torso is at last available to Jonny’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny runs his palms up and down Pat’s chest, from Pat’s clavicle to his lower abs. He repeats the motion a couple of times as he nips at Pat’s lips, until his hands stop at Pat’s pecs and Jonny’s thumbs start rubbing circles around Pat’s nipples. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s hard to focus on undressing Jonny when Jonny is mercilessly pinching his nipples and tugging at them as his tongue fucks in and out of Pat’s mouth. It’s a battle that Pat fights tirelessly and he’s rewarded after a few minutes with the sight of Jonny’s naked chest in front of him, all his for the taking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat bends his knees slightly so he can suck one of Jonny’s nipples into his mouth, biting it lightly and tugging it between his lips as he pulls away, making Jonny hiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Jonny groans, his head thrown back, showing the beautiful canvas of his throat, a canvas that Pat tremendously wants to paint with kisses, and bites, and marks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Pat can latch onto Jonny’s neck with his mouth, Jonny bends his knees and grabs Par around the waist, elevating him slightly so he can walk them both towards the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat is speechless as he’s thrown on a massive bed, his eyes wide at the casual display of strength, his neurons already firing away and imagining thousands of possibilities in the future with this newfound kink of his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat gets pulled out his musings and back into the very fantasy he’s living by the sound of Jonny undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers. Pat follows Jonny’s lead and he shimmies out of his pants after undoing them, pushing them down his thighs and calves and kicking them off with his feet. He’s only wearing his socks now, and when he goes to bend to take them off he catches Jonny’s stunned stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat halts his movements, blinking at Jonny twice before asking, “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you—” Jonny stumbles over his words and Patrick finds it strangely endearing and adorable for the context and what they’re engaged in. “Were you not wearing any underwear all night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat blushes as he remembers that no, he hadn’t been wearing any underwear, and he had just completely forgotten about it as he took his pants off. Pat looks down at his bare lower body, his dick hard and curled towards his stomach, the head of it aggressively red and glistening with the pre-come he’s been leaking since the car ride to Jonny’s house. He moves his left hand towards it, catching a drop of liquid on his thumb and running it through his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Patrick,” Jonny curses, and he pounces on Patrick, his body weighting Pat’s down, his boxer-clad dick pressing against Pat’s bare one. “I’ve dreamt of this for so long. Fuck, I’m gonna wreck you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat shivers, goosebumps raising all over his skin both at the contact of Jonny’s skin against his, and Jonny’s alluring voice and addictive words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last items of clothing they had been wearing -boxers for Jonny and socks for Pat- get removed, leaving them completely naked and pressed close together. Pat can’t keep his hands away from Jonny’s skin and, as they kiss, he explores Jonny’s back and shoulders with his fingertips and the palms of his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s got his right arm bent at the elbow and resting next to Pat’s head on the pillow and his left hand has gripped the back of Pat’s thigh, moving Pat’s leg until he wraps it around Jonny’s waist. Pat uses his heel to press on Jonny’s ass, urging him on so he’ll increase the pace of their rutting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not going to come just from this,” Jonny says, separating their lower bodies but keeping their upper bodies and their mouths touching. “I’m going to fuck you and you're going to come with me inside you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, yes,” Pat blubbers in-between kisses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny has to move away to grab lube and a condom from his bedside table, but Pat extends his arm and grabs Jonny’s ass as he moves around, not wanting to break contact with Jonny’s body or his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Jonny positions himself right above Pat again he drops the lube and condom on the mattress and he sits back on his heels, looming over Pat. Pat’s hands trace over Jonny’s defined abs with his fingertips, traveling downwards to the V of his hips, pressing harder and harder as he goes. Before his hands can reach Jonny’s dick, Jonny grabs Pat by the wrists and slams Pat’s arms down by his sides. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny squeezes Pat’s wrists in turn and he commands, “Don’t move them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat wants to protest the order, but his throat is dry and his brain is mostly focused on the pleasure, the heat, the tension, the suspense, the need, the desire. All Pat can really do is grip at the sheets with his hands, his fingers bunching them up, hanging on for dear life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny, seemingly satisfied with Pat’s obedience, lets go of Pat’s wrists and starts his trek down Pat’s body with his lips. He kisses every inch of Pat’s skin -his nipples, his bellybutton, the dips of his hips, the inside of his thighs, the back of his knees, his ankles-, but his fluttering kisses miss the place where Pat is most desperate for them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s dick stands tall, completely neglected, still sputtering pre-come from the head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonny, please, touch me. Touch me,” Pat begs, his hands spasming as he works hard to not move them at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny looks up from where he was sucking a mark on the inside of Pat’s left thigh, pressing down on the newly made hickey with his thumb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touch you where?” Jonny asks, moving so his mouth is leveled with Pat’s dick. “Here? You want me to touch you here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny lowers his head, his breath warm on the skin of Pat’s dick. Pat’s hips hike up minutely before he presses them back down on the mattress. Jonny’s mouth gets closer and closer to Patrick’s dick and Pat closes his eyes in anticipation. All he ends up feeling is a sweet and short kiss pressed to the crown of the head before Jonny moves back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not yet,” Jonny says, and his hands move to grip Pat’s thighs to open his legs further apart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny lays down face down, his chest to mattress, his wide shoulders between Pat’s legs, and his face right up Pat’s ass. With both hands Jonny separates Pat’s cheeks, exposing Pat’s hole to his eyes. Pat would feel embarrassed if he wasn't so irremediably turned on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny presses one of his fingers to Pat’s hole, just a tap of his fingertip against the opening. Pat feels his hole flutter and Jonny must too, because he repeats the action a few times, eliciting the same response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, it’s so pretty, Pat,” Jonny murmurs, his eyes fixed on Pat’s hole, his face looking enraptured and captivated. “Pretty face, pretty dick, pretty hole. You really are the whole package, baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s face burns up, putting the Sun to shame, the praise getting to him, settling somewhere so deep inside him it immediately becomes a part of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The touch of Jonny’s finger against Pat’s hole gets replaced with a wet touch, and Pat has to pick up his head to look down and confirm what he’s feeling. Jonny’s face is buried in Pat’s ass, his mouth kissing his hole, his tongue circling Pat’s rim maddeningly slow. Pat lets his head fall down on the pillow again, noises spilling out of him without any restriction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny switches over rapid licks of his tongue over Pat’s perineum and slow sucks to Pat’s hole, the tip of his tongue pushing inside the muscle, slowly helping it relax and slowly driving Pat mad. Jonny’s holding Pat’s balls in one of his hands, rolling them and squeezing them in time with his mouth’s actions and Pat feels his insides boiling over. He’s a volcano that’s about to erupt, and he feels like he can’t contain the eruption for much longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s mouth moves away from Pat’s ass and his hand grips Pat’s balls so tightly it actually hurts a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare come,” Jonny tells him, his eyes intensely holding Pat’s. “You’re not coming until I’m fucking you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonny—” Pat starts to protest, but Jonny’s tongue breaches his rim again and all he can do is loudly scream Jonny’s name again and again and again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jonny</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the only word Pat truly knows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jonny</span>
  </em>
  <span>, making Pat feel like he’s never felt before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jonny, Jonny, Jonny. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tear escapes Pat’s left eye and slides down Patrick’s temple into his hair. He’s using all of his might to contain his orgasm, his abs contracted, his lips bitten raw. He’s given himself over to the pleasure and yet feels more aware of the world around him than ever before. There’s not a cell in him that isn't singing, not a single part of him that doesn't belong to Jonny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s tongue is now almost all the way inside Pat’s hole and Pat can feel it licking at his insides, branding him in places that never see the light of day. Jonny twists his head so his tongue will twist too, and Pat can feel more and more tears leaking from his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat must make a sobbing sound because Jonny’s attention is caught. He moves his head back, leaving Pat’s hole feeling empty and cold, Jonny’s saliva coating it thoroughly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny repositions himself over Pat again, leaving them face to face once more. His hand moves to Pat’s face and the thumb of his right hand swipes Pat’s under-eye, wiping Pat’s tears as they pour and pour. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did so well, baby, so well. You taste better than anything I’ve ever tasted,” Jonny’s saying, his praises for Pat never-ending. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the best thing in my life,” Jonny states as he pours lube on his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking of having you like this for so long,” he confesses as he inserts his index finger inside of Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so lucky, Patrick,” he breathes, scissoring two of his fingers inside of Pat, opening him up without much resistance, Pat’s body completely relaxed and loose under him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat has stopped crying but his throat is still producing endless sounds. Jonny is avoiding hitting Pat’s prostate but his fingers still manage to rip out moans and cries from Pat’s lungs. Tiny electricity bolts run from Pat’s hole to his spine and all the way to his fingers and toes. Jonny is kissing every part of Pat available to him, murmuring his accolades into Pat’s lips, his neck, his temple, his hair.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After taking three of Jonny’s fingers without any difficulty, Pat is ready to have Jonny inside him. He takes charge of the situation then, grabbing the condom that still lays next to him, opening it up with shaky hands and putting it on Jonny as Jonny watches all this happen, his fingers still pumping in and out of Pat’s ass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next, Pat grabs the lube and he squeezes some onto his hand. He spreads the lube over Jonny’s dick, taking the opportunity to explore it with his palm and his fingers. Jonny’s fingers falter their movements inside of Pat, and they end up exiting Pat’s hole, Jonny’s hand settling next to Pat’s head supporting Jonny’s weight over Pat. Pat’s hand pumps Jonny’s dick a couple more times, slow and fast, slow and fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop,” Jonny says, and Pat immediately pulls his hand away, settling it on Jonny’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s time. It’s happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s dick finally enters Patrick and the world rights itself, making sense for the first time in Patrick’s life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny goes slowly, pausing constantly to check that Pat isn’t wincing in pain or discomfort, which he isn’t. Pat urges him on, with words and without them, moving his body and his hands to signal to Jonny to go a little deeper, a little faster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, Jonny is completely buried inside of Pat, his hips touching the back of Pat’s glutes, the head of his dick grazing Pat’s sweet spot as Jonny circles his hips one way and then the other. The first thrusts he makes are full, pulling his dick almost completely out of Pat’s hole and then pushing it back in. The drag of the movement against Pat’s rim and his walls is delicious but the pace is too slow, not satisfying enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat tries to get Jonny to go faster but Jonny keeps the sedate pace, unhurried as he grabs Patrick’s thighs and pushes them up and over his shoulders. The new position allows Pat to feel Jonny’s dick deeper inside him and Pat plants his hands on the mattress to push his ass back into Jonny, meeting his thrusts over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s movements start wavering, his arms trembling from holding his weight for so long. He lets his chest plaster into Pat’s entirely, wrapping one of his arms around Pat’s neck and using his other hand to hold the side of Pat’s head, guiding their next kisses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hip drives are shallower now, so much more concise and pointed. His dick rams into Pat’s prostate decisively, time and time again, making tiny little constellations explode behind Patrick’s eyelids. Pat’s dick is trapped between his stomach and Jonny’s, and the drag of their bodies provides enough friction that Pat starts feeling his orgasm build up and up and up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he comes, every part of him sizzles. His orgasm is the most powerful one he’s ever felt. It seizes him and doesn’t let go for minutes, taking him on a journey unlike any other, where the only two people that populate the Earth are him and Jonny. His hands grip Jonny’s back firmly, his nails most likely leaving crescent-shaped marks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s orgasm surprises them both soon after, rocking Jonny’s body powerfully, making him tremble and hold onto Patrick until his shakes have died down completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a minute, Jonny will get up and head to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean Pat’s come off their stomachs and to dispose of the condom. In a minute, Jonny will kiss Pat deeply and tell him that was better than anything his imagination could have ever come up with. In a minute, Pat and Jonny will start murmuring sweet nothings to one another, finding new stuff to talk about despite the fact that talking is all they've been able to do for months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But for now, they stay lying down, their bodies melting together, their mouths gliding in infinite kisses, Jonny still inside of Patrick, Patrick wishing they never had to separate ever again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_____________________________________</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick wakes up to a fluttering touch on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s pleasantly warm, his body comfortably nestled between the mattress and the comforter, his limbs relaxed by the knowledge that they’re not in any rush. He’s in that very particular limbo that exists between consciousness and sleep, the only point in life where you’re not really anyone and you're everyone at the same time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat’s eyes are still closed but he brings a hand up to his face on instinct when he feels the touch again, trying to chase the sensation away by wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s on the brink of falling back asleep when the feeling returns, this time more insistently, making him groan and turn his face away to press it against the pillow, but the action is useless because the touch follows him wherever he goes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sensation of floating nothingness is slowly slipping away from Pat, his brain turning back on and taking in more of the world around him. The feeling of the sun entering the room and warming the sheets, the slight noise filtering in through the windows from the street. The smell of the room, so distinguishable to Patrick, so telling. So Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat opens up his left eye halfway, eager now to start his day and satisfy his curiosity about the reason for his awakening. He catches sight of a blurry shape that’s very close to him. When his vision clears after hours and hours of not having been used, Pat makes out the image of Jonny hovering over him, big grin in place, his face looking much more awake than Patrick feels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” Jonny greets him, his voice rough with disuse. He leans down and drops a short kiss on the tip of Pat’s nose, then moves to do the same to Pat’s closed eyelid and his forehead, and lastly plating a firmer peck to Pat’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat is suddenly a thousand times less annoyed at having been woken up. That doesn’t mean he's going to let Jonny know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat groans, and he extends his right hand to put his palm on Jonny’s face, Jonny’s eyes peeking through the gaps between Pat’s fingers, his nose and his mouth completely hidden by Pat’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Jonny mumbles, his mouth hardly moving against the pressure of Pat’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too fucking early,” Pat complains, squeezing his hand on Jonny’s face to annoy him but careful not to poke him in the eyes. “Why the fuck did you wake me up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, the movement funny to Pat with Jonny’s face still behind Pat’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was bored,” Jonny announces casually and Patrick groans again, trying to convey all of his irritation in that one sound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fucking hate you,” Pat says, pushing Jonny’s head back with the hand on his face, making Jonny laugh obnoxiously loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” Jonny argues, and Pat finally removes his hand from Jonny’s face just to see Jonny’s facial expression better as he watches Patrick glare at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I do,” Pat retorts, but his hand tells a different story with how it is already slipping behind Jonny’s neck, gripping tightly at Jonny’s nape and playing absentmindedly with the short hair there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny doesn’t respond to Patrick’s comment, just smiles softly down at him and stares into his eyes, suspending time around them momentarily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick has never put much thought into the deeper meanings of sex. He’s never given much importance to concepts like virginity, or promiscuity, or pureness, or libido. Sex has always just been sex, an act  -a pleasurable one, hopefully-,  something that sometimes happens and sometimes doesn’t, something that sometimes he craves and sometimes he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then last night sex with Jonny happened, and Pat isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to see it in the same way ever again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because sex with Jonny wasn’t, isn’t, and won’t be, just about the sex. It’s about the connection it has brought them, the way Patrick feels like they’ve crossed the last barrier that kept them from being fully themselves together. Sex almost always involves some kind of intimacy with your partners, but Patrick has never felt it as strongly as now. With Jonny it’s like intimacy has been set deep in-between them and it allows them to see the other in all the possible lights, in every single circumstance, through all the available perspectives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you fall back asleep with your eyes open?” Jonny asks, his voice -nothing more than a teasing whisper- interrupting Pat’s thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick could pretend to have fallen back asleep like Jonny’s saying. He could stick his tongue out at Jonny’s mocking comment. He could roll away from under Jonny and encourage them both to finally start their day now that he’s awake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, all that Patrick does is kiss Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kisses him in gratitude, in frustration, in sweetness, in pleasure. He kisses him for all the times he had wanted to kiss him before and couldn’t, because they had only existed for each other through a telephone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kisses Jonny as he pours all of himself into him, holding absolutely nothing back. Every positive thing, every negative thing, every average thing he’s ever been, made, or experienced; they’re all now Jonny’s as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny kisses him back and, on his lips, Patrick reads every thing that Jonny is giving back to him, which is absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jonny is responding in kind, like he’s created a new language with this one, single kiss, a new language that allows him to tell Patrick, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, I feel the same. Yes, I’m yours”.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, their life-changing kiss grows heated and their naked bodies start rocking against each other, as in sync as their minds are. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s hands travel down the expanse of Jonny’s back, touching every nook and cranny. The space between his shoulder blades, the ridge of his spine, the dimples at the bottom of his back,… He is eager to learn everything there is to know about Jonny’s body, but he’s also happy to know he can be patient. There’s time, all of the time in the world from here on out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s mouth moves to Patrick’s necks, sucking marks all over, in places where Pat knows he won’t be able to cover them up. With his hands, Patrick squeezes Jonny’s butt cheeks, and Jonny buries his moans against the hickey-covered skin of Pat’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The layer of sweat forming on Jonny’s skin makes the glide of Pat’s finger easier when he traces the crack of Jonny’s ass. He slides his finger down and then up, and then down again, as his other arm wraps around Jonny’s shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment Pat’s finger makes contact with Jonny’s hole -just some simple pressure applied to it- Jonny’s entire body shudders. Patrick can feel Jonny’s erect nipples against his own chest and Jonny’s dick is leaking pre-come on Pat’s lower abs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick presses in a little further, breaching Jonny’s entrance, with care as to not hurt him but with enough force that his finger slips in to the second knuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s hole closes around Pat’s finger as Jonny picks his head up from Pat’s neck and looks right into his eyes. He doesn't break eye contact when he moves his hips back just an inch, pushing Pat’s finger further into himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick curls his finger as he pumps it in and out slowly, watching as Jonny’s eyes fall shut and his mouth drops open in a silent scream. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“I need—”</span> <span>Patrick’s voice breaks, the sight of Jonny above him too much for him to handle. “I need lube, Jonny.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny’s eyes open slowly, unfocused and shiny. He comes back to himself a bit, wiggling in place. Patrick understands his wordless request and he pulls his finger out of Jonny’s hole unhurriedly, letting him move away from his position above Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny crawls towards his side of the bed to reach into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom and the bottle of lube he must have put away yesterday without Pat noticing it. He drops both things on the mattress, just where Patrick can easily reach them, but he doesn't climb back over Patrick. He stays on his side of the bed, lowering onto his elbow and knees, separating his legs and turning his head to the side so he’ll be able to look at Patrick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” he asks, patiently waiting, presenting himself so wantonly and perfectly. “What are you waiting for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat doesn’t waste another second and, in the blink of an eye, he places himself behind Jonny, holding his hips and staring amazedly at Jonny’s ass, back, thighs, and shoulders. Staring amazedly at all of Jonny, really, because there is no part of Jonny that doesn't make him question his belief in a higher power that saw him -Patrick Kane- worthy of him -Jonathan Toews-. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick wants to take his time, wants to make things slow, unbearable to the point of tears, just like Jonny had him yesterday. But it’s early in the morning and they’re both too deliriously thirsty for more so he opens Jonny up with his fingers in a practical manner and enters him after putting on the condom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick feels like he just orgasmed without having come at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each forward thrust of Patrick’s hips is meet with a thrust back from Jonny, no rhythm to their fucking at all. It’s an uncomplicated back and forth, sex in its rawest, simplest form. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick feels himself getting closer and closer, and he reads Jonny’s pants and sighs as the sign that he, too, is on the brink of orgasm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He falls forwards then, his chest to Jonny’s back, so he can reach for Jonny’s dick more easily with his right hand. His left hand stays placed on Jonny’s hip and he feels Jonny flop down on his right shoulder just so he can use his left hand to grip at Pat’s, intertwining their fingers by his hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiss me,” Jonny demands breathlessly. “Patrick, kiss me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick captures Jonny’s lips in the hungriest of kisses, his tongue fucking in and out of Jonny’s mouth just like his dick is fucking in and out of Jonny’s ass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They breathe together for the next few minutes, left hands joined, moving in synchrony, chasing their pleasure persistently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny is the first to come. He groans as his dick paints Pat’s knuckles white with come, his left hand untangling from Pat’s to grip at the sheets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick follows him only a couple of thrusts later, his dick shooting inside the condom as he curls himself around Jonny, holding him tightly around the ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pat stays wrapped around Jonny until his breathing evens out, feeling Jonny’s breaths stabilize as well. His forehead is pressed to the nape of Jonny’s neck and he sneaks a taste of Jonny’s skin and sweat with his tongue before moving away, holding the condom in place with his hand as he pulls out of Jonny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets himself fall on his back next to Jonny, the used condom still on his now spent dick. Jonny is completely boneless beside him, his arms in cactus position by his head, his thighs separated as if waiting for Pat to move back between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick turns his head just enough to focus his gaze on Jonny’s face. He looks, for lack of a better term, well fucked, and Patrick won’t deny the fact that the sight makes him feel proud of himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I ask for a clause I want added to the sugar daddy contract?” Pat asks, turning to his side and grabbing Jonny’s left hand with his right one. The simple connection of holding hands with Jonny grounds him and centers him in a way nothing has ever done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonny nods into the pillow, his face relaxed but serious when he says, “You can ask for anything you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to spoil you too. To take care of you and stuff,” Pat says. “I may not have the money to do it like you do but I feel like we can find a way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sweeps his gaze over Jonny’s naked body, letting his eyes do all the explaining. Jonny chuckles quietly and Pat immediately knows he understood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, Pat, we can add that to the contract,” Jonny concedes, closing his eyes and prompting Pat to do the same with a hum when he feels that Patrick just keeps looking at him. “It’s too fucking early, as a wise man once said. Let’s sleep a bit more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick laughs, shaking his head fondly, but he follows the instruction and he closes his eyes, letting sleep claim him, tethered to reality by the grip on Jonny’s hands and the sound of his breaths as a lullaby. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3. i waited my whole life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick’s broke, well and truly broke. Broke in a way he’s never been before. Broke in a way that has taught him to not check his bank account if he doesn’t want to stare blankly at a whole lot of nothing for a long time, questioning deeply his entire existence, sometimes even the existence of the entire world. </p>
<p>So yeah, Patrick is very much broke. But his boyfriend really<em> , really </em> isn’t. </p>
<p>Patrick’s never known what not worrying about money was like since he became old enough to worry about issues like that, but since he officially started dating Jonny, he’s found himself in a position of comfort he had never enjoyed before. </p>
<p>It worried him greatly for a while, the idea of signing a contract that some would find completely baffling. A contract that basically could be seen as Jonny being in charge of his entire financial stability. A contract that a lot of people would argue would put him in a position of being indebted, or at least would make the power imbalances in their relationship so much more blatant. </p>
<p>But as everything that has to do with Jonny, time has proven that Pat never had anything to fear. </p>
<p>“You want pepperoni or bacon on your pizza?” Jonny asks Pat from his position standing by the kitchen island, phone in hand ready to order them their take out. </p>
<p>Pat elevates his upper body to look at Jonny from where he’s laying on the couch, supporting his weight on his left arm as he rests it against the back of it. </p>
<p>“Why choose?” Pat replies, shooting a finger gun gesture to Jonny, making him roll his eyes at him and turn around as he dials their favorite pizza place’s number. </p>
<p>Pat only lowers his upper body down after confirming that Jonny did order him both toppings for his pizza, and as soon as he’s laid back down he goes back to his text conversation with Alex and Dylan, fingers tapping rapidly on his phone. </p>
<p>Jonny finishes the call and is back by Pat’s side in under two minutes. He grabs Pat’s legs with one arm, pulling them off the couch so he can sit, and then letting them rest on his lap, his right hand grabbing Pat’s right ankle, fingers locked tight around it. </p>
<p>“You can press play on the next episode,” Jonny instructs, and Pat grabs the remote with his free hand and does just so, Netflix quickly loading up episode four of the true crime documentary series they’ve been binge-watching all evening. </p>
<p>Jonny is a lot more invested in it than Pat is, his reactions bringing more entertainment to Pat than the show itself. The little frown he gets when he disagrees with something said in the show, the way his fingers tap against Pat’s ankle when slower paced parts of the episode are on, the way he lets out an celebratory curse when the killer finally gets arrested,… </p>
<p>Pat isn’t even hiding his staring at this point, his eyes completely focused on Jonny as Jonny focuses on the TV. Over the past few weeks since they finally met face-to-face, Pat has found himself riveted like this countless times. </p>
<p>It’s not that Patrick ever forgets how lucky he feels for having Jonny, but sometimes the emotion hits him hard in the solar plexus, shaking him to the core. It always happens in the most inconspicuous of moments, it’s always the tiniest and most insignificant of times that Pat ends up treasuring significantly.  </p>
<p>It’s not when the weekly payment they were able to agree on goes through to the account they opened just for it. It’s also not when Jonny takes him around Chicago, both of them looking their best, the food or art they’re enjoying something Pat would have never had access to without Jonny. It’s definitely not when Jonny showers him in gifts, although Pat will agree he’s never ungrateful or unhappy about them. </p>
<p>The moments that Patrick loves most are the ones where it’s just him and Jonny, nothing more needed, nothing else wanted. </p>
<p>It’s when they're walking through Chicago hand in hand after a fulfilling dinner, people passing them by, cars speeding through the roads, the world unaware that something magical is happening in just the touch of their hands. It’s when Jonny calls Pat to tell him he’s working late, and how he always ends up spending fifteen minutes on the phone with Pat sounding apologetic and regretful and sad until Pat promises him he’ll spend the entire weekend at Jonny’s so they can wake up next to each other.</p>
<p>Pat’s favorite moments look a lot just like this: him lying down on the couch, Jonny by his side massaging his calves, whatever random new Netflix show playing on the background as Patrick tries to memorize Jonny’s profile so one day he’ll be able to close his eyes and make it the last thing he sees no matter how or when he dies. </p>
<p>“You’re doing your creepy staring thing,” Jonny tells Pat, his eyes not leaving the TV but the corner of his mouth lifting up in a subtle smirk. </p>
<p>Pat presses the heel of his right foot into Jonny’s crotch so it’ll hurt a little as he diverts his gaze and brings his attention back to his phone. </p>
<p>“Trying to understand how I thought it was a good idea to be with someone as horrendous as you,” Pat jokes, flinching and thrashing his leg around when Jonny pinches him on the back of his right knee for the teasing remark. </p>
<p>On the screen a text comes in from Dylan. It’s a picture of his jockstrap, the one Pat knows he uses for their hockey beer league, one of its bands ripped in half. The photo is quickly followed by another text from Dylan, a simple crying emoji. </p>
<p>Pat frowns at the picture, the thought that’s been quietly whispering in his mind for weeks shouting and calling for attention now. </p>
<p>“Hey,” he calls out to Jonny, his eyes going from the screen to Jonny, then back to the screen to look at the picture one more time, and then finally settling on Jonny for good. “I was thinking of buying Dylan and Alex new hockey equipment with some of this week’s money. That okay?”</p>
<p>Jonny turns around on his seat, his back to the armrest, his chest now completely facing Pat, his legs bent at the knee but still positioned to give Pat’s own legs space. </p>
<p>“It’s your money, Pat, you can do whatever you want with it,” Jonny reassures, his smile making it clear he’s being completely honest. </p>
<p>Patrick already knew that would be Jonny’s response, but he always feels better after Jonny has reminded him of his trust in him. Pat has found himself hooked on Jonny’s approval, in the easy manner he’s got of grounding Pat, of making him believe more in himself. </p>
<p>He never used to give much credit to the people that said that your partner should always make you want to be a better person, and he still doesn’t, really. For him, it’s all about </p>
<p>trusting himself more, getting confident in his decisions, having faith that if Jonny sees something so worthwhile in him it must be because he already sees Pat trying his best and appreciates all his efforts. </p>
<p>Jonny hasn’t made Patrick want to be better, because Pat has always been competitive enough to want to try his best at everything. What Jonny has done is allowed Pat to see new colors, new forms, new shapes and ways he can use to achieve that better Patrick Kane that he wants to become. </p>
<p>The feeling of wonder, amazement and gratitude for Jonny doesn’t fade when their food arrives and Jonny gets up -dropping a quick kiss to Pat’s curls- to get it from the delivery person. It doesn’t evaporate when they’re eating either, and Pat knows it’s here to stay for a long while when it only strengthens as Jonny gets pizza sauce on his white t-shirt and makes an even bigger mess when trying to clean it off. </p>
<p>The pizzas get pushed to the side when Pat fits his mouth to Jonny’s, greasy lips sliding together in a way that Patrick should find gross but he truly just thinks is endearing. Jonny cleans his fingers on his sweatpants -clearly giving up on having any clean clothes on- and then buries them in Pat’s hair, moving his head this way and that so their mouths slot better together, tongues sharing the taste of bacon, pepperoni and all the vegetables Jonny prefers in his pizzas and that Pat believes have no place in one at all. </p>
<p>Patrick is straddling Jonny’s thighs where he’s seated on the floor, Jonny’s back supported by the couch. Jonny’s hands move to Pat’s ass, not grabbing it or pushing it to get Pat’s body closer, just resting on it delicately.</p>
<p>The kisses don't get more heated or grow more frantic.  They stay lazy and uncoordinated, messy in the most appealing of ways. </p>
<p>Pat and Jonny only separate when Jonny gives Pat’s ass a light spank as he reminds him of their food. Pat doesn't move very far away, however, just plops his butt down on Jonny’s lap after he grabs a pizza slice, comfortably resting against Jonny as he eats. </p>
<p>Netflix keeps playing in the background but not even Jonny is paying attention to it anymore. One of his arms is wrapped around Pat’s waist, keeping him still on his lap. He’s using his other arm to eat his pizza, folding up the slices he grabs and biting into them messily. </p>
<p>Pat chatters away as he eats, unconcerned with swallowing all his food before speaking, moving his hands around even as they hold his pizza. He tells Jonny about Dylan’s and Alex’s shitty hockey equipment, about the new one he bought for himself a couple of weeks ago and about the one he wants to get for his best friends. He then moves on to telling Jonny about one of his classes, but the story quickly diverts into recalling his last Skype conversation with Erica and how she had told him about her experience in college so far. </p>
<p>Jonny nods along to all of Pat’s ramblings, humming in all the right paces and asking all the right questions that prove he really is engaged in what Pat is saying. </p>
<p>It’s such an unremarkable afternoon, but it’s all the more remarkable for it. </p>
<p>Patrick feels full by the time he finishes the entirety of his pizza. Jonny has left 2 slices of his own pizza uneaten but Pat has pushed through, incapable of leaving leftovers of such a delicious meal behind. </p>
<p>He’s seated in-between Jonny’s thighs now, Jonny’s legs splayed wide to leave room for Pat’s body. Pat’s back is resting on Jonny’s chest and his head is bent back to rest on Jonny’s shoulder. Pat rubs his stomach with his hands, drawing big circles over one of Jonny’s old UND t-shirts that now Pat uses more than Jonny does. </p>
<p>“I’m so full,” Pat complains, groaning as he grabs one of the rolls of his stomach to prove just how full he is. </p>
<p>Jonny places his hands on top of Pat’s, guiding them so they’ll stop squeezing the skin of his stomach. </p>
<p>“Did I or did I not say that this would happen?” Jonny asks, now having pushed Pat’s hands aside to place his under Pat’s t-shirt to lightly caress Pat’s aching belly. </p>
<p>“Yes, oh wise one,” Pat mumbles, his eyes closed and his body relaxing against Jonny’s sinking deeper and deeper into Jonny’s securing hold. “I bow to you and your clairvoyant powers.”</p>
<p>Jonny’s voice sounds as echoey, as if he was very far away, although his mouth is pressed right into Pat’s ear. “Clairvoyant… That’s a big word, you educated college senior.”</p>
<p>Pat hums in assent but he lets the conversation die, his mind far too surrendered to the pull of sleep. He doesn't fall harshly into its deepness, but instead walks slowly into the vastness of it. He lets its waves hit his shins as the tide reaches Pat’s waist. He’s not completely underwater, still able to make out sounds and sensations from the conscious world -the quiet murmuring of the documentary, the feel of Jonny’s fingers tracing shapes onto the skin of his tummy-. He drifts in and out, lets himself sink to the bottom of his mind and then comes back up to draw in a breath. </p>
<p>It’s the most relaxed he’s ever been, the most free he’s ever felt. </p>
<p>Pat lets himself be carried back to shore, his senses reconnecting to his body one by one, the world coming back into focus as his unconscious mind retreats once more.</p>
<p>The first sensation he can pinpoint again is the feel of Jonny’s fingers gripping his wrist tightly. His fingertips are outlining the band of Patrick’s watch, the one he’s been wearing non-stop on his left wrist since Jonny gifted it to him a few weeks ago. </p>
<p>Pat feels his fingers twitch, and he opens his eyes just in time to see Jonny intertwine their fingers, his tanner skin contrasting nicely with Pat’s fairer one where they touch. </p>
<p>Jonny must have noticed a change in Pat’s breathing or he must have recognized Pat’s body’s signs as he woke up, because he kisses Pat’s temple and informs him, “Your phone screen has been lighting up constantly, I think your chat with Alex and Dylan has been growing crazy.”</p>
<p>Pat burrows deeper into Jonny’s embrace, reaching blindly with his right hand across the floor, trying to find his phone just by touch so he won’t have to pull his gaze away from his and Jonny’s left hands, still joint together. </p>
<p>His hand finally makes contact with his phone and he brings it closer to his face, seeing that Jonny was right and he’s got dozens of unread texts from his group chat with Alex and Dylan. </p>
<p>They’re all silly messages, a handful of dog pictures Dylan has sent of dogs he claims he and Alex are going to have when they move into an apartment that allows them to have pets, and Alex’s affirmative or negative responses to proposed dogs names by Dylan. </p>
<p>Pat merely sends one text back in response to all the chatter, a simple request for them to take their wedding planning into a private chat that gets him a middle finger emoji reply from Alex. </p>
<p>“Hey, Pat, look at this,” Jonny says, the movement of his chest as he speaks jostling Pat’s body a little bit. </p>
<p>Jonny extends his right arm in front of Pat as Pat lowers his own, letting his phone rest against his thigh. Jony is holding his own cell phone in his right hand, so Pat guesses Jonny must have been messing around with it as Pat was reading Dylan’s and Alex’s messages. </p>
<p>On Jonny’s phone his email app is open and Pat can see that Jonny has clicked onto one of them to open it and show it to Pat. </p>
<p>The email in question is from <em> Dreamy </em> and its subject matter reads <em> “Come back, you never know what you might find. 50% OFF ONLY TODAY!” </em>. The body of the email is filled with a colorful graphic, the pinks and blues of the image and the text font so recognizable to Pat, as well as the various diamond images that decorate the message. </p>
<p>
  <em> Dreamy.  </em>
</p>
<p>It seems like that part of Pat’s life happened years ago even though he knows it’s been only a few months since he stopped using the app, and he’s got a reminder of what it brought him right behind him and holding his hand. </p>
<p>
  <em> Dreamy.  </em>
</p>
<p>Patrick could have never predicted what the stupid app would bring into his life. </p>
<p>“Okay, no,” Pat says, reaching his hand to grab Jonny’s phone from him swiftly. “You think I can send them an email telling them to never bother you again because you’ve already got all the sugar you need in your baby?” Pat turns his torso around to look Jonny in the eye. “That’s me, in case it wasn't clear. I’m your baby.”</p>
<p>Jonny bursts out laughing at the comment and Pat feels his smile grow at the sound, his tongue peeking out from between his upper and lower teeth. He moves his face closer to Jonny’s, trying to kiss him but Jonny’s fit of laughter makes it difficult to coordinate a kiss. Their noses bump, their teeth clink and this only serves to make everything even funnier. </p>
<p>Patrick’s laughter cuts off abruptly when a thought materializes in his head, making itself known and punching Pat in the brain painfully. </p>
<p>“Jonny,” Pat pronounces, his voice gravely enough that Jonny stops laughing as well, looking seriously back at him. “Jonny, what the hell are we going to tell people when they ask us how we met?”</p>
<p>Jonny’s laughing commences once again, this time rowdier than before, his whole body shaking, making Pat’s own body shake with him. Pat punches him on the shoulder with the hand that’s still holding Jonny’s phone, and punches him on the thigh with the hand that is still holding Jonny’s own hand. </p>
<p>“I’m serious, asshole,” Pat says, the thought growing louder and louder in his head. “I cannot tell my parents I met you in a sugar daddy app!”</p>
<p>Jonny just laughs and laughs and laughs, his face beautifully bright and joyful. </p>
<p>Patrick gives up on trying to get a response out of him, so he turns back around, setting his body back into Jonny’s chest and closing his eyes. </p>
<p>Fuck, <em> Dreamy</em>. And fuck Jonny too. </p>
<p>Pat will have to come up with a plausible meeting story all on his own. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>💎</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank y'all so much for reading. </p>
<p>Find me on <a href="https://thathockey.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> and/or <a href="https://twitter.com/thathockey_">Twitter</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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